A Noah at Hogwarts
by Maharet11
Summary: The summer after his fourth year at Hogwarts, Harry wakes up with a terrible headache and heavily bleeding forehead. Soon after, he receives some strange visitors and consequently gains a family, but at what cost? Noah Harry.
1. Awakening

**AN: This is set during the summer after Harry's fourth year. Ron and Hermione haven't been able to tell him much in their letters, and neither has Sirius for that matter; both just as in the fifth book, and just as in canon, Harry is feeling very dissatisfied with the lack of information he has been receiving while stuck with the Dursleys; the relatives that resent his presence in their otherwise "normal", magic-free lives. For those who are not familiar with DGray-man, the existence of the Noahs will be explained as Harry learns of them. This story is being written with much help and advice from the one known on as Dgm-yoai-lover, the DGray-man expert among my friends. **

**Disclaimer:** I own the rights to neither Harry Potter nor DGray-man.

Soon to be fifteen-years-old Harry was awoken from his slumber by a terrible, intense pain in his forehead. This in itself was not unusual for Harry; he was often woken by pain from the lightning-shaped curse-scar on his forehead, which had been prickling uncomfortably almost constantly since his nemesis Voldemort, who had given him the scar in a mysteriously unsuccessful attempt on his life, had regained himself a body after thirteen years as a parasitic spirit. This time, however, the pain did not originate from the lightning scar, and neither was it of entirely the same brand as that to which he had become accustomed.

He bit savagely at his lower lip in order to prevent himself from screaming. He didn't even want to think about how the Dursleys would react if they were woken up in the middle of the night by his cries, no matter the reason/s he had to do so. That was how it had been ever since he was left on their doorstep thirteen years ago, after Voldemort had murdered his parents and attempted to murder him. Although the move from the storage cupboard under the stairs to the smallest bedroom a mere four years ago had been a definite improvement, the basic attitude of the Dursleys towards him had remained the same with the addition perhaps of a little more fear. Even that fear, however, would not save him from their wrath should he have the nerve to awaken them for any reason at all.

Right now, he felt as though somebody had taken a knife to his forehead and carved right along the length of his forehead. Talk about killer headache… he wiped at his brow with his right hand, and felt some sort of sticky, warm liquid. A terrible suspicion beginning to form in his mind, and he groped blindly at the surface of his bed stand until he found his glasses which he shoved onto his face. Gritting his teeth from the pain, he glanced at the numbers glowing red on the digital clock and saw that it was 3 o'clock in the morning. He then flicked the light switch and stumbled out of bed and over to his mirror. His eyes widened in horror as his suspicion was realised, and it was all he could do to keep himself from letting go and screaming for all he was worth.

His forehead was covered with deep crimson blood. Judging from the pain he felt, the blood was his own. Of course, if it was his own then it had to be leaking from somewhere i.e. the part of his forehead that felt as though somebody had taken a knife to it. Trembling with apprehension, he spat on his hand and then used it to begin wiping away some of the blood. Eventually, he cleared away enough to see that there was a row of cross-shaped marks carved across the length of his forehead, from left to right or right to left. His head throbbed as yet more blood welled up from the marks, and, under the power of gravity, began to trail towards his eyes. Finally, he gave in to the pain and screamed.

Soon after, the bedroom's door was slammed open, and Harry's Uncle Vernon came thundering in, his moustache quivering with righteous indignation and his face as purple as a radish. It was actually a rather comic sight, but not one that Harry was in any mood to appreciate.

"BOY!" Vernon shouted. "What is the meaning of this unholy racket? Waking up me and your Aunt and cousin after we took you in and gave you food, shelter, clothes… You ungrateful brat…" He trailed off as he saw the blood and the cross-shaped marks, but his silence unfortunately did not last for long. Harry had by now stopped screaming, and was once again biting savagely at his lip. Face purpling even further if that was possible, Vernon placed one beefy hand on each of Harry's shoulders and began to rattle him furiously. This startled Harry into biting down on his lip even harder than he had previously been doing, and thus the watery and salty taste of blood invaded his mouth. He barely felt the sharp sting of his lip, so distracted was he by his "headache".

"What do you think you're doing?" snarled Vernon, spit flying from his mouth and onto Harry's face. Harry began to raise his hand in order to wipe the disgusting substance away, but that hand was slapped back down by his Uncle. "You planning to shoot some freaky ma…mag… _freak stuff_ out of your hand, boy?" Harry was silent, not daring to reply.

"And what's the meaning of these freakish crosses across your face, boy? Thought that we'd pity you if you were bleeding all over the place did you?" It seemed that Vernon had spotted the blood-stained pillow. "Well, it's not going to happen, boy. Whether or not you decide to carve up your own forehead is no concern of ours – not anymore, anyway!"

"But I didn't… Hang on. What did you mean by 'not a-any-nymore'?" Harry's voice began to break near the end as he struggled against the growing headache. It now felt as though someone immensely strong was attempting to split open his skull using only an ordinary bread and butter knife.

"OUT!" screamed Vernon suddenly, his eyes demented and insane as he almost frothed at the mouth. "Get OUT! We don't need your freakiness imposing on us anymore."

"Shush, Vernon. The neighbours will hear!" hissed Petunia from the door. Harry stared bemusedly at her through glazed eyes. Had she been there all along and he just hadn't noticed? Or had she only just arrived?

"Sorry, Pet," he muttered, more quietly this time as he seemed to deflate a little. He then rounded once again on Harry, his giant marshmallow-like face still as purple as ever. "Get out now, boy, or I'll throw you out the door myself!"

"No, Vernon," Petunia spoke up once again, her voice shrill and somewhat panicked. "If he just disappears, the neighbours will talk. He has to stay."

"But -"

"He stays, Vernon! Do you want those _freaks_ coming here to investigate?" She whispered the word "freaks" while glancing at the window, almost looking as though she expected to see the neighbours standing with their ears pressed up against the glass, never mind that it was the second story. Perhaps she expected them to climb up to the window on a ladder for the specific purpose of being just as much obnoxious stickybeaks as she was.

"I – You're right, Petunia," said Vernon, some of the colour on his impossibly purple face fading away as he too glanced nervously at the window. Turning back to Harry, he hissed venomously; "Don't think you'll be leaving this room anytime soon, boy. And if you wake us up again, I'll come back and gag you myself!" With those parting words, Vernon thundered out of the room, slamming the door behind him as he left. Harry heard the sound of a lock clicking into place, then thunderous footsteps growing steadily fainter, and then finally silence.

Harry threw himself down on the bed, shoving his forehead up against the pillow in the hope that it would stifle the pain, or at least the blood flow. It didn't. He sobbed silently, the walls he had built around his heart crumbling away to dust. The pain was near unbearable, yet if he made a sound the consequences would be far worse than if he didn't. It wasn't just the physical pain that tortured him now, for he was very afraid. Was Voldemort behind this? Had that human demon now found a way to torment him from afar by means other than his curse-scar? Surely such a thing wasn't possible… but he could think of no other explanation. Was blood going to continue leaking from the new marks on his forehead until he bled to death? Was that Voldemort's latest plan to destroy him?

He needed to tell Professor Dumbledore…

He stumbled to his feet, only to realise that his owl Hedwig was still out hunting. He swayed unsteadily on his feet, then shuffled awkwardly over to his desk while clutching his forehead and gritting his teeth. He took out a golden eagle feather quill, inkwell and some parchment, and flattened the parchment out over the rough surface of the desk. Hand shaking, he began to write.

_Help. Forehead bleeds, hurts, not scar. Crosses__ appeared, don't know why. Scared of dying._

_Harry._

Now he just had to wait for Hedwig to return. He made his way to the window where he stared out into the night sky, searching for any sign of Hedwig. A flash of white… but it was just a light flicking on above the porch of a house across the street. Something moving in the sky, the flutter of wings… but it was only some nocturnal bird of which he did not know the species, not even an owl of any sort, let alone snowy. "Where are you, Hedwig?" he whispered, praying to whatever deity may exist that she would return soon and get the letter to Dumbledore before it was too late.

"Hello Harry," a girl's voice sang out from behind him. He spun around, and saw two figures standing near his bed whilst a heart-shaped door faded out of existence in the wall behind them. The one who had spoken was a young girl, perhaps thirteen or fourteen years old. She had spiky hair of a deep blue, almost black, shade, the back of which was reaching down towards her shoulders. Her skin was grey, and she had seven marks in the shapes of crosses forming a row across her forehead… just like the heavily bleeding marks that had manifested across _his_ forehead. She was dressed in a long-sleeved white blouse with a two-tailed red tie hanging from around her neck, and a short purple skirt, thigh-high striped socks (purple and black) and black school-girl's shoes.

The other figure, like his Uncle, was oppressively large, although somehow more dignified than Vernon (AN: Not that that's a hard thing to be…). He was wearing a long beige overcoat and a black top hat, and there was no doubt in Harry's mind that this being was not human, for he had long pointy ears and a grotesquely long, narrow face, half of which was taken up by his widely grinning teeth. Like the girl, he also had grey skin. (AN: I'm not sure that's an entirely adequate description, but he _is _a rather difficult character to describe.)

"Who are you?" Harry demanded hoarsely, right hand twitching towards the wand sticking out of his pocket as his gaze darted warily around the room. Why were they here? How did they get here? Had he really seen a door fading into the wall behind them? Had Voldemort sent them? All of these were certainly valid reasons for him to be worried.

"I'm the Millennium Earl," the larger being told him. "This is Rhode Kamelot, the First Child of the Noah Clan."

"We've come to help you," the girl – Rhode – informed him. "Here, have some ice cream." Smiling widely, she held out a bowl of vanilla ice cream with the handle of a silver spoon dug sticking out of it.

Harry glared at her suspiciously. "Why would you want to help me? For that matter, how did you get in here and what makes you think that I need your help?"

"Your Noah is awakening," Rhode told him whilst twirling around in circles with the bowl of ice cream balanced precariously on one finger. "Ever since you were born, the Noah has been dwelling within you, waiting for the ideal time to make itself known. We Noah are a family of sorts, and we can sense when and where another is awakening. That's how we knew where to find you. As for why we're helping you… Isn't that what family do?"

"I wouldn't know," Harry muttered, somewhat sullenly. His memories of his parents were non-existent, his Aunt, Uncle and cousin had never cared for him, and now even his friends seemed to have abandoned him. Sure, they wrote to him, but anything of actual worth had yet to find its way into their letters this summer. _We're quite busy but I can't give you the details here… There's a fair amount going on, we'll tell you everything when we see you… I expect we'll be seeing you quite soon… _From vague hints in some of the letters, he had concluded that they were together, wherever they were, but he, as usual, was stuck with the relativeswho hated him. He couldn't help but feel angry and resentful over this seeming abandonment.

The letters from Sirius, his godfather and the closest thing to a parent he had ever known, had been only slightly better. Sirius, at least, seemed to have some understanding of how he was feeling, but nonetheless had given him no more news of current events in the wizarding worldthan Ron and Hermione had. His hands balled into fists at his sides.

He was broken out of his thoughts by the smallish figure of Rhode literally jumping on him and flinging her arms around him. "You don't have to worry about that anymore, Harry," she cooed into his ear. "You're part of _our_ family now. We truly want nothing more than to help you through the awakening. I've been waiting for a new family-member for _ages_, and now you can finally join us." She pulled back from the shocked teenager with beaming smile and gave a brief joyful laugh as her yellow eyes shone with excitement.

Something in Harry told him to believe her, that she was telling the truth, but Harry wasn't a very trusting person – he couldn't afford to be in times like this, with a madman of a Dark Lord out for his blood. "How do I know that you're telling the truth?" he asked wearily. His forehead was still aching, although the presence of these two mysterious strangers seemed to have alleviated it somewhat. Did that lend credence to their story, or were they using some kind of silent, wandless spell, or was it mere coincidence?

"You're one of us, Harry," said Rhode, her smile never dimming. "You don't need us to tell you because you already know, don't you?"

Harry opened his mouth to deny it, but then it snapped shut almost as though of its own volition. Absurd as this seemed, stranger things had happened to him, not the least of which was finding out that not only he was a wizard, but a whole magical community lived alongside the world he had previously known, completely hidden from all those who did not know where or what to look for. Besides, something within the depths of his soul _did_ seem to agree with what Rhode had just told him. This part of him was steadily growing, and it felt as though his whole life had been working up to this point, this so-called awakening. Could it really be true?

Rhode placed one of her hands upon his arm. "Come on," she told him. "Perhaps you should take another look in the mirror." Deciding to go along with this for the time being, he walked with her to the mirror by the closet. He was a great deal less shocked than he felt he should have been by what he saw.

"Grey," Harry murmured wonderingly, and reached up to gently prod at his face. "My skin is turning _grey_." Even as he watched, his still-pale skin darkened a shade or two, bringing itself ever-closer to matching the odd skin tone of Rhode and the Millennium Earl. By this time the new marks on his forehead had stopped bleeding. They weren't yet quite as dark or healed as Rhode's but they appeared to be becoming more like them. Rhode once again flung her arms around him, and Harry stiffened in her arms. The Dursleys, with whom he had spent the better part of his life, had never bothered to show him anything even slightly resembling affection, and at primary school the only children who hadn't gone out of their way to avoid him had been those going out of their way to beat him up. Once at Hogwarts, he always found the casual, everyday kind of touch that everyone seemed to take for granted slightly overwhelming.

The Millennium Earl chuckled. "You might want to get off the new child now, Rhode. I think you're making him uncomfortable." Harry glanced at the larger figure as Rhode removed her arms from around him and stepped back a couple of steps, and was somewhat surprised to see unveiled affection for both of them in his eyes. With a start, Harry remembered the dream he had had several nights ago, a dream that had featured a whole family of these grey-skinned, yellow-eyed people with the stigmata across their foreheads.

Stigmata? What made him think of the marks as that? Turning towards both Rhode and the Earl, but speaking to Rhode in particular, he asked, "What are the marks across our foreheads called?"

"Stigmata. But you already knew that, didn't you?" she asked rhetorically.

An involuntary shiver ran down his spine and he nodded wordlessly. Staring at the odd pair, he whispered, "It's really true, isn't it?"

Both nodded in reply. Harry glanced nervously in the general direction of his relatives' bedrooms. "You should leave. If my relatives find you here…"

"Nonsense, Harry," Rhode interrupted, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You're part of _our_ family now, so you don't have to stay with those freaks of nature you call relatives anymore."

"But -"

"Why do you stay here, anyway? Surely not because you want to?" There was a knowing glint in Rhode's eyes as she spoke.

"There are blood wards… I don't have anywhere else to go…" Harry mumbled, carefully examining his feet in order to avoid the eyes of Rhode and the Earl.

"You _didn't _have anywhere else to go. You do now." That was Rhode.

Hope lit up Harry's eyes, hope that he really could escape the Dursleys after all, but he knew better than to be too quick to celebrate. "But the wards…"

"You'll be protected well enough where we're going. Besides, why should you have to come back here year after year just because some old man who won't let your friends tell you anything says so? Surely you could be just as well-protected somewhere else?"

Excitement and hope filled Harry at the thought of leaving this place he hated so much and he started to nod, but then he stopped and his eyes narrowed with suspicion. "How do you know my friends haven't been telling me much and what makes you think Professor Dumbledore's behind it?" he asked, suddenly remembering Dobby the house-elf who had stopped his mail the summer before second year in the hope of discouraging him from returning to Hogwarts, where "great danger" was brewing, by making him think that he didn't have any real friends.

"I'm telepathic," Rhode informed him coolly. "As for how we know about Dumbledore, we looked into that on the way here. Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger have been denying you information under the orders of your headmaster, there's no doubt about it."

Harry was silent, scuffing his now-grey feet on the floorboards. "They still could have told me something more," he grumbled sulkily.

"Are you going to come with us?" the Earl asked, and something about his tone indicated that it wasn't really a request so much as an order. Harry didn't notice, however, and merely nodded. No way was he going to stay in this place where he had known only misery, not now that a viable alternative had been offered, no matter what Dumbledore had told him. Besides, more and more he was feeling that this Noah clan was really his true family and memories not his own seemed to be hovering just out of reach. A strange warmth was flooding his heart.

"Rhode, if you would," the Earl commented. Harry blinked in confusion, but Rhode just grinned, and then a heart-shaped door appeared, hovering in the air beside Rhode. The door swung open, and she beckoned Harry to her side. Once he was there, she took his hand and informed him; "This door will take us to the house we are staying in. That's one of my powers; I can create portals to anywhere. Ready to go, New Child?"

Harry started to step forward, but then he hesitated. "Hedwig… my school things…"

"You two go ahead. I'll bring them along," the Earl interrupted. Rhode smiled sweetly, and then leapt through the doorway, dragging Harry along after her.


	2. Family

**AN: So far as the DGray-man timeline goes, this fic is set sometime after where the series is currently up to; therefore, Skin Bolic is dead and the powers of the 14th have turned Allen fully into a Noah. His presence with the family will be more thoroughly explained later in the story.**

Less than a week after he had left the Dursleys, Harry sat in a high-backed chair at a long wooden table, Rhode beside him in a similar chair. Also sitting at the table were the Millennium Earl and the other Noahs; Rhode's adoptive father Sheryl Kamelot, Sheryl's younger brother Tyki Mykk, the twins Jasdero and Debitto, collectively known as Jasdebi, Lulubell, and Allen Walker, who, in spite of his white hair, was around his age. This was his first time meeting most of them; he had been staying close to Rhode who had introduced him only to Tyki and Allen before now. Allen hadn't spoken much, only stared listlessly at the wall and moved away when Rhode attempted to hug him. Rhode had looked at him with something almost like pity, and refused to answer any of Harry's questions. "It's his business," she had told him firmly, and he had let it drop.

It had certainly been an interesting few days. Throughout this time, the instincts and knowledge of the Noah had slowly infiltrated his psyche until he felt like they had always been there, and that which this had not explained to him had been explained by Rhode, Tyki, and occasionally the Earl who had dropped by to check on him several times. He had also met Relo, an animated pink parasol that said "relo" after every sentence. It had shrieked as a laughing Rhode had spun it around, and Rhode had stood upon it as it flew through the air, looking as though she was riding a snowboard, except she… wasn't. "Don't think you'll be riding him, though," Rhode had told him possessively. "Only me and the Earl do _that_."

Each Noah carried a part of the Noah within them; each was one part of the Noah whole. Rhode was the Dreams, Tyki was the Pleasure, Sheryl was the Deceit, Jasdebi were the Bond, Lulubell was the Lust, Allen was the Will, and Harry, it seemed, was the Love. Perhaps the reason for this had something to do with his Mother's sacrifice? The memories each of them had gained upon awakening were, for the most part, related to the trait with which they were associated. Each of them also manifested certain superhuman powers whilst in their Noah form (all of the Noahs, with the exception of Tyki, were able to switch at will between their Noah form and their original human form). Harry's power was that his skin was able to have an effect similar to that of fire on anything he touched, but only if he wanted to burn or melt that which he was touching. He had also come to know that Jasdero and Debitto had once been one who had wished himself a twin. No-one knew which of them the original was. All of this Harry had learned during the time he had thus far spent with his new-found family.

Now, the Millennium Earl had called all of the Noah Clan together for a 'family dinner' in honour of their new member. They were served by akuma, human-formed demons created by the Earl. Harry frowned at the akuma maid standing behind the Earl's chair, for he couldn't find it in himself to approve of their existence. They were the product of a machine, a soul, and a tragedy. When a human mourned for one they had lost to the clutches of death, and longed more than anything else for their loved one to be returned to them, the Earl would sometimes appear to them and offer to bring their loved one back from death. The mourner would call out for their loved one from their heart, and the departed soul would be summoned into a machine body, and become an akuma. The akuma would then be forced to kill the one who had summoned them and wear their skin, thus assuming human form.

It was the existence of akuma that disturbed Harry more than anything else he had learned since leaving the Dursleys, perhaps even more than anything he had learned before as well. Well, almost anything, anyway. Finding out that his parents hadn't died in a car crash, as the Dursleys had lead him to believe, but were rather killed by a mad but powerful dark wizard had been fairly disturbing as well, after all. Nonetheless, there was really nothing he could do about the akuma, and so he was forced to let it slide. Over the time he had been here, he had come to realise that the Earl was not someone that it was wise to disobey, and some of what the Earl said did make a twisted sort of sense to Harry.

It was the desire of the Millennium Earl and the Noah Clan to tear down this world to its foundations, along with all its evils, and build a new one in its place. While Harry would have previously disagreed with this plan, he had begun to see what humanity was doing to the earth. Every day, so much of this planet was decimated or poisoned by the actions of humans who cared for nothing but their own selfish appetites, and were needlessly cruel to even their own kind, betraying each other as soon as it suited their purposes. He himself had often been a victim of human cruelty and fickleness; the Dursleys had put him through severe neglect bordering on abuse, Dudley had ensured that he rarely received kindness at school, and the population of Hogwarts had turned on him almost every year, only to act as though nothing had happened after it once again became fashionable to like him.

He still held some reservations, of course, but his Noah instincts combined with the love he felt for his family caused him to lend a certain amount of support to the scheme. In affect, a rift had actually developed between two parts of him; the part that supported the Earl's plans, and the part that railed against them. The previous day, he had briefly assumed his human form just to make sure he could, and a curious reality had made itself known to him. He had discovered that he was more inclined to support the Earl's interests while in his Noah form, and was more inclined to feel regret over the plan while in his human form. He had yet to mention this to anyone.

Harry poked at the eggs with his fork, brow furrowed as he thought about everything that had happened. He could tell that his life had been irrevocably changed; there was no going back now. _Not that I want to go back_, Harry thought, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards in a slightly bitter smile. This was the first time in his life that he really felt that he belonged. Even Hogwarts, which he had called his true home more than once, had never provided him with a family. Even at The Burrow, the Weasley family home, he had not truly been part of the family, no matter how much they welcomed him and cared for him. And the Weasleys hadn't been able to help him this summer.

Hogwarts… despite his previous thoughts on the matter, he thought he may want to go back. Breaking out of his thoughts, he glanced at Rhode. One of her arms was resting lazily on the table, and the other was twisted around so that it supported the back of her neck. Her legs swung backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, while she watched Allen through lowered eyelashes. He felt a slight tightening in his chest, although he did not know why, and he turned quickly away, focusing his gaze upon the Earl instead. "Millennium Earl," he stated respectfully, making it known that he had something to say.

"What is it, Harry?"

"Will I be going back to Hogwarts this year?"

"Do you want to?"

Harry frowned thoughtfully. _Did_ he want to go back? The answer came to him then, in startling certainty. "Yes," he said firmly, his eyes gleaming as he gave a small smile. "I want to finish my Hogwarts education, play quidditch again, find out what crazy abnormal-even-for-a-school-of-magic thing is destined to happen to me this year. I want to talk to my friends again as well. Hear from their own lips why they wouldn't tell me anything, probably salvage the friendship… I can understand why they would do what Dumbledore says, and why it would be a risk to give that sort of information in a letter." He sighed deeply, lowering his gaze. In the company of the Noah clan, no longer alienated by those around him, he had come to a better understanding of why his friends had acted in the manner they had. He was still resentful that they seemed to be together at The Burrow while leaving him with the Dursleys, but as that was probably under Dumbledore's orders as well…

As for Dumbledore, he would undoubtedly be taking such actions in the hopes of keeping Harry safe behind blood wards (not that that had worked on the occasions that the Dursleys had crossed the line to actual abuse eg. striking him for accidental magic before Hogwarts, locking him in his room with only meagre rations summer before second year.).

"Well, I don't see why you shouldn't, then," the Earl chortled, "just so long as you're able to make your excuses when I call you away to do something for me."

"What sort of things would I be doing for you?" Harry asked, curious. It was Rhode who answered.

"Destroying Innocence, fighting exorcists, that sort of thing," she told him in a tone that made it clear that she thought it was obvious. Harry tapped into his recently-acquired knowledge to determine that exorcists were the enemies of the Millennium Earl and the Noah clan, and that Innocence was the name given to the exorcists' weapons, the power they used to fight them and to destroy the akuma.

"Come now, my princess," Sheryl chuckled, his gaze boring into Rhode's. "You can't expect the boy to take in everything about our existence straight away." It seemed that he too had caught on to his daughter's tone.

Rhode yawned widely. "No, I guess not," she said agreeably, and then she smiled at Harry. "You'll forgive me, won't you, New Child?" This time, her tone was playful and lightly teasing.

"O-of course," Harry stammered, then gulped down several mouthfuls of water, to avoid meeting anyone's gaze as much as to quench his thirst. Why was he feeling so nervous and embarrassed all of a sudden? He couldn't recall ever feeling quite this way before, yet at the same time it seemed strangely familiar, and not in the same way his Noah instincts and knowledge did. Did that mean he had felt something like this before? If so, why couldn't he remember? If not, why did it seem familiar? Only once he was feeling a great deal less flustered did he frown at his plate as a new thought hit him. "Excuses…" he mumbled to himself. "What in the world can I tell them if they notice me missing?"

"You could say you overslept," Rhode suggested chirpily. "Or fell asleep somewhere. I often have Sheryl, Tyki, or Master Millennium write notes saying I was ill, but you couldn't do that at a boarding school…"

"I'll think of something, I guess," Harry muttered doubtfully. There were only so many times he could claim that he had been sleeping before people began thinking he was either under the effects of some sort of spell or lying, after all.

"Cheer up," said Rhode, poking him sharply in the side of the head. Harry put a hand over where she had poked him, and sent a mildly irritated stare her way. If she noticed this, she gave no indication. "What's the worst they can do? Give you detention? Lecture you on how terribly _disappointed_ they are? I get both of those all the time. The entire last week of my last term I had after-school detentions during which I was ordered to complete my incomplete essays for English and History, as well as three months worth of trigonometry I haven't started at all."

Harry had to stifle laughter at the thought of what Hermione's reaction to such blatant neglect of studies would be. She would probably be completely horrified, and immediately begin drawing up a comprehensive study timetable which she would try to get Rhode to follow religiously. Rhode, of course, would completely ignore Hermione and everything the over-eagre bookworm told her to do. That was, if Hermione was lucky.

"Still _haven't_ started?" Harry asked as he finally became aware of the implications of that particular phrasing.

"Nope," Rhode exclaimed cheerfully. "Mrs Beswick wants it next term under threat of expulsion, so I'll get it done these holidays… someday… later… next week, maybe… or the week after that… hmmm."

"That's what you said three weeks ago," Tyki spoke up in a long-suffering, exasperated tone.

A sly grin began to work its way onto Rhode's face. "There will be no chance of that happening again if you…" she began, the words that she spoke drawn out unusually long, and in an unusually high-pitched voice. It was the tone used everywhere by young girls wanting something.

"No," Tyki snapped irritably before she could finish. "No, I will not do it for you. No, I won't do _any_ of it. I've already written the history essay for you."

"But _Tyki_…"

"I said _**no**_."

Rhode fell silent, pouting sullenly at her quarter-full plate. Nobody spoke for several long minutes, and then…

"So, trigonometry, you say?" It was Sheryl. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt if I did a little bit of that…"

Rhode turned towards him, beaming. "Would you?" she practically shouted, and jumped up to stand on the chair. "Thank you, thank you…" And then she launched herself across the table towards Sheryl, who caught her in his arms and swung her around before setting her back on her feet. Harry barely blinked at Rhode's hyperactive display. After even a week in her company one was bound to become accustomed to such things, after all.

"You shouldn't spoil her so, Sheryl," Tyki drawled, although he seemed more amused than annoyed.

"Nonsense," said the Earl dismissively. "Rhode's excellent at what she does; I see no reason that she shouldn't get almost anything she desires in return."

Harry realised with a start that Rhode was just as spoiled as Dudley.

And that he didn't really care, for the simple reason that he too would give Rhode almost anything she asked for. Something about her just seemed to invite such sentiments in those who allowed themselves to get close to her.

As the meal reached its conclusion, and the participants began to make their way out of the room, Harry stayed silent, head lowered as he pondered over the implications and possible ramifications of recent revelations.


	3. The Order of the Phoenix

AN: Thank you to all of my reviewers! I do not own Harry Potter or DGray-man.

* * *

In the kitchen at Number 12, Grimmauld Place, London; current headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix…

Hermione stood in front of the headmaster of Hogwarts, her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. Ginny, also scowling, stood just behind her, and Ron was hovering further back, watching the proceedings with an anxious expression. Dumbledore smiled tiredly at them. "How may I help you Miss Granger, Miss Weasley?" he inquired politely, and then his gaze travelled to Ron. An amused kind of twinkle entered his eyes, and he added; "Mr Weasley?"

"Professor Dumbledore," Hermione said stiffly; "I understand that you wish to keep Harry safe, but we think that this has gone on quite long enough. Harry hasn't even answered either mine or Ron's last four letters. Anything could have happened to him! Or… well, if he has fallen into silence out of choice, I can't really say I blame him. We haven't been able to tell him _anything_, and we all know that he doesn't like staying with his relatives. At least send someone to check up on him if you really can't afford to bring him here."

Dumbledore sighed deeply, and it suddenly seemed as though his age was finally making more of an impact than it usually did. "I understand your concern and appreciate your worry about your friend, but I'm sure he's fine…"

"How can you be sure?" Ginny snarled in a display of the stereotypical redhead's temper. "Most wizards and witches are 'sure' that You-Know-Who hasn't returned. For some time last year, even Ron was 'sure' Harry had entered his name into the Goblet;" – here, Ron looked down, ears reddening in embarrassment and slight shame at remembered mistakes – "everyone outside of the Order and a few select Hogwarts students are 'sure' that Sirius is an insane murderer. So how can you be _sure_ that Harry's safe?"

Silence greeted the end of her rant. Dumbledore appeared to be at a loss for words.

"_Please_, Professor," Hermione sobbed, her eyes moist with unshed tears. "Please do something, even if all you do is check…" Dumbledore raised his hand to silence Hermione.

"I have guards stationed around the Dursley residence," Dumbledore told her soothingly. "They have reported no disturbance. But just in case… I will send Remus to speak with him. If he is overly dissatisfied with his current situation, I will prepare an escort to bring him here."

Dumbledore was rewarded by wide, joyful smiles from Hermione and Ron, and a satisfied smile from Ginny, who was looking curiously like the cat that caught the canary. "I knew you'd come round to our way of thinking, sir," she purred, and then she glided from the room.

"Thank you, Professor Dumbledore," said Hermione brightly, and then she skipped from the room, looking happier than she had in months.

"Yeah, thanks Professor," Ron mumbled before striding quickly after his sister and best female friend.

Dumbledore slumped into a chair and stared unseeingly at the door through which three of his students had just vanished. He only hoped that he wasn't making a mistake by inviting Harry here. If Voldemort was to break into Harry's mind… _Stop fretting,_ he told himself firmly. _The house is under a fidelius charm, and it will be good for Harry to see his friends again. _He stood up and made his way to the fireplace, where he grabbed a handful of floo powder and tossed it into the fire. Stepping into the now-green flames, he called out "Hogwarts!", and then he was gone.

The following day at Privet Drive…

Remus Lupin, werewolf member of the Order of the Phoenix and one of James Potter's best friends, walked up the generic driveway of the Dursleys' generic home. He was dressed in jeans, sneakers and a blain black t-shirt. His muggle dress-sense was much better than that of most wizards, it seemed. He glanced towards where he knew Mundungus, Harry's current guard, lurked under an invisibility cloak. Sure enough, there were two slight imprints in the shape of shoeprints on the sun-withered lawn. Remus continued to the front door, never noticing the young woman watching him closely through the window of the house next door.

Almost a minute after he rang the doorbell, a morbidly obese young man slammed the door open. "Who're you?" he mumbled around a mouthful of chocolate muffin, not even bothering to swallow before taking another large bite.

"I'm Remus Lupin," the wizard replied. "I'm here to speak to Harry Potter…"

Dudley, for that's who the young man in question was, fell backwards, and his mouth gaped open, allowing for the escape of a flood of vile brown sludge. "Y-you're a freak," he stammered, not seeming to realise that the vast majority of observers outside his immediate family would be much more inclined to categorise him as a freak than the man he was labelling as such. Remus raised his eyebrows, but otherwise gave no sign that he had heard Dudley's words. The youngest Dursley turned tail and fled, slamming the door behind him. Remus frowned, and then rang the doorbell again… and again… and again. After several minutes of this, Remus' patience began to wear thin. Just as he was reaching the point of being sorely tempted to use a _reducto_ curse to blast the door from its hinges, the door finally opened once again, this time to reveal a horse-faced blonde.

"What do you want?" she snapped, looking at him like he was a maggot-infested lump of mouldy cheese.

"Mrs Dursley," he began politely, hoping that she would have a better reaction than her son, although judging by her expression that was really not something to be expected. "My name is Remus Lupin, and I wish to speak to Harry…" It was at that point that Petunia made to slam the door in his face, but Remus, who had somewhat expected this, managed to stick out his foot in time to block the door from closing.

"There is no Harry Potter here," Petunia hissed venomously, her arms folded defensively as her eyes betrayed her nervousness. So far as she knew, Harry had had barely anything to eat or drink over the past week, and hadn't been let out of his room at all, even to use the bathroom. Now that the 'freaks' had decided to check on the boy, she found herself silently cursing their decision. She didn't know exactly what would happen if they decided that the boy's condition was unacceptable, and she certainly didn't want to find out. The only thing that she could think to do was feign ignorance…

Remus' eyes narrowed, and a sudden sinking sensation came over him. He _knew_ this was the house; he himself had had guard duty a few times, and he had defiantly seen Harry coming in and out of this house. He was equally sure that this woman was Petunia Dursley; despite the sisters' lack of contact, Lily had insisted on placing a few photos of Petunia around her and James' house in Godric's Hollow. "I want to speak to Harry _now,_" he growled, his eyes flashing angrily. Petunia's resolve wavered in the face of this man's anger, and the sudden aura of danger that seemed to take form around him, and before her conscious mind registered what she was doing, she wordlessly stepped aside to allow him entrance.

"Which room is his?" Remus asked, fixing her with a glare that left no room for argument. Cringing, Petunia resigned herself to co-operation, and gestured for him to follow her up the stairs.

On the house's second story, Petunia guided Remus to a heavily padlocked door with a small cat flap at the bottom. "This is it," she announced, lips thin to the point of being barely visible. She turned away, intending to leave quietly. Perhaps she would get Dudley to the car, pick up Vernon from work for a 'family emergency', and go to America for a (permanent) vacation.

Her plans were foiled by Remus, who seized her arm to prevent her from leaving. Even Gilderoy Lockhart would be unable to mistake his anger now. "Why is it locked?" he asked, and his grip tightened when she didn't answer straight away.

Petunia gave a nervous, high-pitched laugh. "Well, he and Dudley got into a bit of an argument, you see, nothing to drastic, but he came up here around a week ago, locked himself in, and hasn't come out yet." She personally thought her explanation was quite a good one considering how much pressure and strain she was under.

"He put padlocks on the outside of the door and then what? Phased through? Are you saying he's a ghost now?" Remus snarled, sounding surprisingly like Severus Snape in a full potions class of Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter clones.

Petunia froze. She began to stutter, trying to form words but unable to. She became light-headed and dizzy. _Calm_ _down, Petunia,_ she told herself firmly. _Just calm down. What's the worst they can do, anyway?_ Inevitably, an image of Dudley with a pig's tail sticking out the back of his trousers entered her mind, closely followed by the letter informing her of her parents' deaths at the hands of those… those disgusting _wizards, _Death Eaters. Her panic skyrocketed so that she began to hyperventilate. Her vision swum, and then she fainted. Now the only thing holding her up was Remus' grip on her arm. Glaring at her distastefully, he loosened his grip, allowing her to fall to the ground.

He then pointed his previously concealed wand at one of the locks and muttered; "Alohomora." The lock clicked open. He did the same thing with the next lock and received the same result. Then again, and again, and again. Eventually, the last lock opened along with the door. Remus stepped into the room and found… nothing.

Well, not absolutely nothing. There was the bed and the other furniture and a bookshelf filled with muggle books, but no Harry, no Hedwig nor her cage, none of Harry's school things. The bed was still rumpled from being slept in, and the pillow was covered with… _**dried blood?!**_

Stalking over to the bed, Remus made a sweeping motion with his wand. The pillow glowed with a deep blue light that caused him to clench his fists. It was defiantly blood. He practically ran out of the room, but then came to a stand-still when he was just out the door. Pointing his wand at Petunia, he said; "Enervate." Immediately conscious, she sprang to her feet and made to flee down the stairs, but was stopped by the tip of Remus' wand barely an inch in front of her face. "Where is Harry, and why is there blood on his pillow? Tell the truth, Dursley, or I'll use magic to make you!"

Cowed at the threat of magic been performed anywhere in her "perfectly normal" house, Petunia spoke up. "He woke us up around a week ago, making an unholy racket at an ungodly hour in the morning. The brat's completely ungrateful!" The intensity of Remus' glare increased, and Petunia flinched before continuing in her annoyingly shrill voice; "So we; that is, Vernon and I; came over here to see what was going on, and there he was, his forehead bleeding." She became silent, apparently feeling that she had said enough.

Remus' eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he could detect no falsehood in her eyes, and considering the unique properties of Harry's scar, the truth of her story was certainly plausible. Remus turned to glance once again at the blood-stained pillow. "That sure is a lot of blood for bleeding out of just his scar," he muttered. His earlier sinking sensation had by now metamorphosed into a feeling of physical sickness.

At this point, Petunia couldn't resist butting in with all a regular gossip's tenacity. "His scar?" she inquired rhetorically. "You mean that ugly lightning-shaped thing? I never said _that_ was bleeding now did I?"

He whirled around to face her, practically snarling. "What happened?" he growled furiously. Petunia backed away, stammering, too frightened to actually form a coherent sentence. With one last glare at the cowering woman, he disapparated with a sound like the cracking of a whip. Petunia promptly fainted once again.

Remus, meanwhile, appeared out of thin air at Diagon Alley's apparation point. Frown still in place, he began to pick his way through the crowded streets. The mass of people crowded in on him from all sides, forming something similar to an oppressive, turbulent sea. It seemed that the Alley was especially busy today; normally the crowds were a lot more manageable than this. His eyes passed briefly over the many colourful shopfronts advertising their wares through various means, but such displays had long since ceased to induce any emotion in the now-jaded werewolf, and so he continued to pick his way through the crowd with never a second glance at that which he had once looked at with wide-eyed wonder.

Eventually, he reached Flourish and Blots which was much less crowded than the street outside. A bell jingled lightly as he opened the door, announcing, to those who cared to listen, the entry of another potential customer to the store. He walked down an aisle of books on divination, heading towards the counter. When he was about half way there, however, a snide voice called out unnecessarily loudly; "Well, if it isn't Dumbledore's pet werewolf?" A blond teenager adorned in expensive black robes had just stepped around a corner. It was pureblood Hogwarts student Draco Malfoy in all his immature, petty glory.

Almost instantaneously, all of the people within hearing distance turned to look. Remus met their stares evenly, not allowing himself to be intimidated by the hostility that most of them were radiating. A well-dressed woman placed one hand on the shoulder of both of her children, and hurriedly led them out of the store, glancing back anxiously every few steps. "Mummy, why are we going? You promised to get me the latest edition of _Quidditch Through the_ _Ages_," the girl asked, confusion and hurt evident in her voice.

"Not now, sweetheart," the woman cooed, sending Remus a scorching glare that belied her tone. "I'll send for it through Owl Post, I promise. In the meantime, I'll get you a strawberry and vanilla ice-cream instead, OK?"

"OK," she replied brightly, but then her brow furrowed in a small frown. "But why…"

"There are monsters out and about. I wouldn't want you getting gobbled up." Her tone was as poisonous as her words.

Remus barely kept from wincing. Such reactions were nothing new to him, but they never ceased to wound him. Draco smirked triumphantly, looking as smug as a nymphomaniac after a threesome.

_Just ignore them__, Moony; it doesn't matter what idiots like them think, anyway, _spoke up a voice in his mind that sounded remarkably like his dear friend Sirius Black. He chuckled inwardly at that. With Sirius as his conscious, he was probably doomed, anyway.

_Hey, I resent that,_ whined the aforementioned conscious. Remus replied by obstinately ignoring it. Head held high, he strode up to the counter.

"Hi, Remus," muttered the man standing behind the counter, Gaius Flourish, who just so happened to also be a member of the Order of the Phoenix. Several customers were eyeing the two suspiciously, and a couple of young men began to saunter in their direction, but a firm glare from the brawny, intimidating Gaius sent them scurrying. "Do you want to floo to Headquarters?" he asked in a low voice. Remus nodded silently in reply.

"This week, the fireplace over there is connected," Gaius continued, gesturing to a large open fireplace only a few metres from the counter. "Password's 'The Burrow'." Every week, a different fireplace within Flourish and Blotts had sole connection through the Floo Network to Grimmauld Place, and various passwords were used to gain entrance in order to prevent Order-savvy eavesdroppers (i.e. Death Eaters) from figuring out the location of Headquarters. The Secret Keeper ritual may have prevented them from entering under such circumstances, but Death Eaters hovering around the general area and picking off anyone who tried to go through the front door would certainly be unwelcome.

Remus moved quickly, not wanting to stay any longer than necessary. Quite besides the open suspicion and hostility of the store's other patrons, he had a very bad feeling about Harry, and wanted to speak with Dumbledore about it ASAP. Stepping into the fireplace, he poured into his hand some floo powder from a small bag he had taken from a magically modified pocket in his jeans. The pocket was, through the careful application of spells, much larger on the inside than it was on the outside; a relatively common practice among witches and wizards.

"Where do you think you're going, werewolf?" snarled a heavily-scarred, middle-aged man. Draco was leaning lazily against a nearby shelf, apparently enjoying the show he had started.

Remus merely raised his eyebrows. The man seemed even more infuriated by this, and opened his mouth to say something else.

"The Burrow," Remus said clearly, and dropped the floo powder into the ashes at his feet. Emerald flames sprang up around him, and he was gone before the man had another chance to speak. He was not afraid of being followed; only those who had been told Grimmauld Place's location by Albus Dumbledore would be able to enter through any means, and Gaius would probably stop anyone from attempting to follow, anyway.

He stepped smoothly over the hearth in Grimmauld Place's spacious dining room, and was immediately assaulted by an indecipherable clamour of questions. It seemed that Sirius, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, Mrs. Weasley and Headmaster Dumbledore had all been sitting at the long ebony table awaiting his return.

"Quiet!" Dumbledore commanded loudly, and the din of voices immediately dropped dead. One could have easily heard a needle drop onto the floor. "Now… How is Harry, Remus?"

"He's not there," Remus replied shortly, and the concern and anger were clear to be heard in his voice.

The clamour immediately sprung back to life, but one voice sailed rose up to break out of the mass of sound and make itself clearly heard.

"HE'S WHAT?!" It was Sirius. Of course it was. The other voices quieted, not as swiftly as before, but still rather quickly. It seemed that Sirius was going to be the spokesperson. "What's happened, Moony?" he continued to rage, as fierce as the mythical grim to which his Animagus form was so similar. "What's happened to my Godson?"

He paused to take a deep breath, no doubt in preparation for an extensive and ultimately useless rant, but Remus cut him off before he could begin. "His cousin answered the door…" Remus begun. Within minutes he had finished recounting what had happened. Silence clung thickly, oppressively, to every air particle in the room. It was the kind of silence that fell over a forest as hunters passed through. It was altogether less pleasant than the earlier headache-inducing din.

Almost simultaneously, eight pairs of eyes turned to look accusingly at the headmaster. The heavy-hearted old man felt as though he would break under the weight of those stares. Almost despairing, he buried his face in his arms. Unbroken, the ominous silence lingered.


	4. Friends

AN: Warning for boys kissing boys. (No, it's not Harry…)

* * *

Harry sat leaning against an ivy-covered brick wall on a balcony overlooking an attractive courtyard filled with neatly trimmed shrubs and marble statues set upon a well-kept lawn. The central piece of the courtyard was a gently bubbling water-feature with a large, attention-grabbing ornament in the centre. It was an angel; tall, regal and proud, with large arching wings spread proudly wide. The figure's features were carved in explicit detail, and its expression was not one that could be readily identified as benign. Rather, it was as cold and unfeeling, as _remote,_ as the stone from which it had been chiselled. Its form was androgynous; neither male nor female, but a perfect blend of both. Its hands were extended, and in one hand it held an apple, and in the other a small set of scales. A crown of thorns was set around the top of its head, and the seven largest thorns dug savagely in a row across its forehead.

On the distant horizon, the sun had begun its descent behind the mountains, and a soft golden glow illuminated all that he could see. He savoured the warmth that the rapidly fading glow bathed him in, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. There was no denying that this was a beautiful place, especially at this time. He had come out here to be alone with his thoughts, and he was glad that he had.

_I have a family now; a real family,_ he thought to himself. _But can I afford the price for having them?_

He just didn't know.

He was currently in his Noah form, for he was rapidly becoming more comfortable in that form. _It's as though this is my true form._ Besides, once he returned to Hogwarts he would have no choice but to adopt his human form almost all of the time. Apart from the stigmata, the yellow eyes and the grey skin, there were some small differences between the appearances of his alter-egos. His Noah self was a couple of inches taller, with muscles that were slightly more toned, and his hair was not quite so impossibly messy in this form. He was currently dressed in black slacks and a long-sleeved button-up navy shirt with a black and white striped tie; the same outfit he had worn to the 'family dinner' earlier. He was barefoot, for he had abandoned his shoes and socks on the floor before coming out on this balcony.

The door to his side swung quietly open, and he quickly gave it his attention lest it be Rhode launching a surprise-attack on him as she had been wont to do over the past couple of days. "You should always be aware of everything around you, Harry," she had told him after the first time, when he had glared at her with annoyance and hurt whilst clutching his arm where she had stabbed him with a sharp-tipped candle. "The Noah clan has many enemies, and I don't want any of my family to die!" At that point, she had looked so sad that Harry had hesitantly placed a hand on her shoulder, and then she had told him about Skin Bolic, who had been the sweet-toothed Wrath of the Noah, and who had been killed whilst fighting an exorcist. "If any of us ever die," she had told him; "you will feel their death within your very soul, as will us all, and we will all weep for the one we have lost, no matter where we are or what is happening to us. There's no stopping the tears." Harry had felt something twist uncomfortably within his gut at the thought of losing any one of his newfound family.

It was not Rhode, however, who stepped through that door. Rather, it was a white-haired boy of human appearance with one grey eye and an eyepatch covering the other, which had a scar above and under it, the very top of which was in the shape of a five-point star. He looked remarkably familiar, and it took Harry only a few seconds to figure it out. "Allen?" he asked gently, and the boy nodded, closed the door gently behind him, and then sat down next to Harry.

"So, you're a wizard?" Allen asked, his voice soft and sad, but also curious. It was the first time that Harry had heard him speak.

"Yes." Allen looked at him with wide, curious eyes, and Harry soon found himself elaborating. "I never actually knew until I was eleven, though. My parents were murdered when I was very young, by a dark wizard who also tried to kill me, but failed for some unknown reason. I lived with my mother's sister and her husband and son, and my Aunt and Uncle knew I was a wizard but never told me. When I started receiving letters inviting me to Hogwarts, they did everything within their power to keep them from me, until the groundskeeper Hagrid showed up just after midnight on my eleventh birthday, and I was finally able to read the letter. My relatives still tried to stop me from going, but there wasn't really anything they could do."

"You mentioned friends before…"

"Ron and Hermione are my best friends. I met them at Hogwarts. I never had any friends before Hogwarts. It'll be good to see them again, even if I haven't been too happy with them lately. What about you? Do you have any friends from before you became a Noah?"

"I used to be an exorcist." Allen looked away, drawing his knees up to his chest. Harry jerked back, eyes wide with shock.

"Seriously?"

Allen turned back towards Harry, and smiled slightly at his expression. "Seriously."

"What happened?" Harry's shock had by now become some sort of vague acceptance, and his voice conveyed both curiosity and compassion.

"I was born with Innocence in my left arm, and that caused it to look like it was terribly deformed. My parents abandoned me because of this. I was taken in by a man called Mana whom I considered my father. When he died, I was left completely alone. I stayed by his grave and would have starved, but then the Millennium Earl came. He offered to bring Mana back to me."

A violent shiver ripped through Harry's frame as he realised the implications of this.

"I took up the offer, and Mana became an Akuma. Filled with pain, he cursed me. When he attacked, the Innocence in my arm reacted, and destroyed the Akuma. He thanked me just before he disintegrated, but I didn't realise what had happened. All I knew was that I had killed Mana. But then General Cross found me. He explained what had happened, and gave me an offer of becoming his apprentice, and eventually a proper exorcist. I agreed." Allen laughed awkwardly, startling Harry. "Let's just… skip over the apprenticeship, shall we?"

"Huh? Why? Did something bad happen?"

Allen mumbled something about debt collectors, poker and cheating. A maniacal chuckle escaped him, and Harry decided not to ask. Instead, he indicated Allen to continue.

"Mana's curse turned my hair white, and affected my eye so that whenever I see an Akuma, I can see their soul drifting behind them, suffering… Eventually, I left General Cross and went to the headquarters of the European branch of the Black Order, the exorcists. I worked for them, and I made friends. The best friends I could possibly hope for. But then…"

-FLASHBACK-

Allen looked up as the door to his sleeping quarters at the Black Order headquarters swung open. Malcolm Levrier stepped inside, the look in his eyes even more hostile than usual. He held a gun in his right hand. Allen felt a distinct uneasiness penetrate his sleep-deprived mind. Although he hated to think ill of anyone in the Order, he could not realistically deny that Levrier was constantly looking for an excuse to call him a traitor and execute him. Levrier had grown suspicious of Allen when he had found out that Allen was able to control Noah's Ark.

When Allen was very young, before he had even met Mana, the Will of the Noah, a mysterious being known only as the 14th or The Musician, had betrayed the Millennium Earl. The Earl had hunted down the 14th and killed him, but not before he implanted all of his memories and powers into a young boy with Innocence in his arm. The memories and powers didn't surface right away. Rather, they lay dormant, awaiting the ideal time to manifest. Meanwhile, the boy was taken in by the 14th's younger brother Mana Walker.

Allen Walker never knew that he was destined to become the 14th's successor. Only Mana and General Cross were aware of what had been done. While Allen was under his tutelage, Mana had, under the guise of a game, taught him the piano notes that the 14th had played in order to control Noah's Ark.

Many years later, several exorcists, including Allen and General Cross had found themselves aboard the Ark whilst trying to prevent the Noahs from getting hold of the Ark. General Cross had guided Allen to a secret room within the Ark. In the middle of this room was the 14th's piano. Allen had recognised the symbols on the piano as those that Mana had taught him. Under Cross's bidding, Allen played the music as he had been taught. The 14th's memories began to surface within him, lending him their aid in this endeavour, and he was able to use the power of the Musician to bring several of his previously-deceased friends back to life as well as salvage Noah's Ark for the Order. Later, Cross told Allen of what the 14th had done and of Mana's relation to him.

Now, Allen was fidgeting nervously while the hostile and politically powerful Levrier blocked his only exit with a gun in hand. "Come with me," Levrier commanded coldly, and Allen had no choice but to obey. Hurrying through the halls, he noticed a conspicuous lack of people. Even Howard Link, who had been assigned by Levrier to keep watch over Allen, was nowhere to be seen.

"Where is everyone?"

Levrier glared at him, and gestured sharply for him to continue walking. Other than that, he gave no indication that he had heard him.

Allen's trepidation turned to dread when he was lead to the Black Order's gate. The tall gothic tower behind him reached for the clouds. He stopped, refusing to move any further. "Where are you taking me, and why?" he demanded, his arms folded stubbornly. "I won't move from here unless you tell me."

"You're in no position to make demands. Everyone who may have helped you is currently engaged in an urgent meeting where they will not hear you even if you scream, and all of the Black Order's surveillance is currently out of order. I am to bring you to the meeting, so if you attack me you will immediately be labelled a traitor. I have men posted nearby to arrest you should that happen." Allen swiftly scanned his surroundings, and was able to detect several people standing with hoods concealing their identities and guns in their hands. An ugly smirk blossomed into being on Levrier's face as he whipped up his right hand so that the muzzle of his gun was pressed against Allen's forehead.

Allen glared at Levrier with hateful eyes. "What do you hope to achieve by this?" he hissed furiously.

"Will you now confess to being a traitor?"

"Why should I, when it isn't even true?"

Levrier snarled like a feral dog. "You know as well as I do that you are lying, Noah!"

"But I'm not a Noah," Allen protested, although he could see in Levrier's eyes that he would not believe him no matter what he said or did.

"Oh, really? We'll see about that, now won't we?" The smirk had returned to Levrier's face and he sounded much too smug for Allen's liking. Without turning his gaze from Allen's face, Levrier gestured for a couple of the hooded people to come forward. They were swathed in robes that concealed even their gender/s, and when they drew close enough that Allen could see under the hoods, he gazed upon no faces, but only masks. With the gun still pressed against his forehead and Levrier's finger straining tensely against the trigger, Allen dared not move, not even when the masked people moved out of sight behind him.

"Do it," Levrier commanded, and before Allen had a chance to even register what had been said, a terrible pain came over him, beginning at his left arm and then working its way through the rest of his body. Gasping for breath, he fell to the ground as the world around him seemed to blur out of focus. Clenching his fists, he bit down hard on his lower lip. Salty blood dribbled into his mouth and onto his tongue, and he was forced to swallow so that he would not choke. The sharp sting of his lip gave him something else to concentrate on, and his surroundings came back into focus.

He was lying at Levrier's feet, but did not have the strength to look up. "What? Why?" he managed to rasp after several unsuccessful attempts to speak.

"Your Innocence has been subdued. It will not come to your aid, and now… you will reveal your Noah, or you will die," Levrier eagerly told him. Prostrate and helpless, Allen trembled violently. What in the world was Levrier planning? The answer to his question came soon enough. "Another Innocence will be inserted into you. Only Dark Matter will be capable of destroying the Innocence and preventing you from becoming a Fallen One."

"No!" Allen gasped, horrified. A Fallen One was someone whose body was attacked and destroyed by Innocence, a very painful process. There were two known situations in which an Innocence would turn on someone. One of these was a circumstance in which an exorcist was judged unworthy by their Innocence. Not as long ago as it seemed, Allen had encountered an exorcist, Suman Dark, who had Fallen in such a manner after betraying the locations of his comrades to the Noah Tyki Mykk in return for his life.

The other circumstance in which an Innocence would destroy its host was when it was forced to synchronise with someone that it had not chosen. When this happened, it would attack the person into whom it had been forced. It seemed that Levrier intended to force Allen into such a situation.

Dark Matter was the only substance within the boundaries of this world that was capable of destroying Innocence. The Earl's Akuma were constructed of Dark Matter, but were unable to wield it to its full potential, and were thus incapable of destroying Innocence. That ability belonged to the Millennium Earl and the Noah clan alone. Allen swore inside his mind. Either he would die a Fallen One or the 14th would manifest and he would be executed as a traitor. Neither option at all appealed to him.

With a great deal of effort, Allen managed to raise his head, then arch his neck back so that he met Levrier's gaze. Allen's eyes were filled with rage, despair, and above all, sorrow. Levrier's smug smirk never wavered. "Do it," he once again commanded, and Allen flinched before something was jabbed into his shoulder, and then he entered a dismal reality in which terrible, burning pain was all that existed. He curled into a defensive ball, and perhaps he was screaming or perhaps he wasn't – he couldn't really tell. All that mattered was the pain, and the fact that it wouldn't disappear.

After what felt like an age, he grew somewhat accustomed to the pain, and his mind was able to begin to tentatively function once again. The pain itself was no less, however, and a powerful hatred manifested within Allen, not only for Levrier, but also for the Innocence that sought to destroy _him_ for Levrier's sin. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to get rid of the Innocence, and in that moment, something deep within him reacted to that desire. A power that was very different to Innocence coursed through his veins, and something in his brain recognised it as something that he had received but a taste of when he had played the Musician's piano.

The Innocence shattered into thousands of pieces. The pain stopped. Levrier crowed in triumph, then shouted; "Arrest the traitor." The hands of the men behind Allen tightly gripped his arms. Snarling, hatred still coursing through his veins, he managed to wrench himself free with inhuman strength. He started to move away. He heard the sound of a gun being cocked, and turned to face the still-smirking Levrier. Levrier was now holding two guns. The guns were aimed at Allen's left and right kneecaps, respectively.

"Traitor, huh?" Allen seethed. All pretence of politeness was gone from his tone, causing him to sound like an entirely different person. "It seems to me that the real traitor here is _you_, Malcolm Levrier. Creating a Noah just so you can satisfy your sadistic desire for torture…" He trailed off, clicking his tongue in mock disapproval. By now he had figured out what had happened, and he knew that if he were to look at his reflection, he would see the stigmata, yellow eyes and grey skin of a Noah.

Levrier fired the guns.

The bullets stopped motionless in mid-air. Levrier and his men all froze where they were. Time had stopped within a dome of strange glowing clock faces with hands that did not move at all, and Allen was standing just outside. He glanced around, and soon caught sight of the exorcists Lavi, Lenalee and Miranda. Timcampy, a small, round, golden 'golem' with feathered wings was perched on Lavi's shoulder. "Hey, Allen," Lavi called out, his tone concerned. "You alright?" Allen hesitantly nodded, and Lavi grimaced painfully. "You're still Allen, right?" he asked, wincing even as the words left his mouth.

"Yeah," Allen replied, and then he smiled reassuringly at his friends.

Lenalee sobbed, and then ran forward to embrace him, tears running down her cheeks. Allen gingerly patted her on the back. "I-I can't believe Levrier would do that," she cried. "Well actually, I can, but this is just so _extreme_, even for him." Allen nodded in grim agreement before turning his gaze to Miranda, for the strange dome and the manipulation of time were her Innocence's signatures. Never before had it worked quite like this, however; usually it turned back time, temporarily healing wounds or repairing ships and the like, and the hands on the warped clock faces would move backwards.

"You caused this, right?" he asked just to make sure, gesturing to the time-stop. Miranda nodded jerkily, and then began to hyperventilate.

"D-d-did I do s-something wrong?" she stammered. Before anyone could reply, she continued to speak, her speech steadily getting faster. "Oh no, I shouldn't have done this. I'm overstepping my bounds. I'm sorry, I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry – "

"Miranda," Lavi cut her off, grabbing onto her shoulders and shaking her slightly. "Breathe. You did nothing wrong. Better than that, you saved Allen's life. Breathe."

"Yes," said Allen. "Thank you, Miranda."

Slowly but steadily, Miranda's breathing returned to a more healthy rate, and she smiled sheepishly. "I'm still not used to actually being somewhat useful," she muttered. "I'm sorry – "

"Miranda! Stop apologising. You have nothing to apologise for," said a thoroughly exasperated Allen. Miranda laughed awkwardly. "I didn't know that your Innocence could do, well, this," he continued, gesturing once again at the time-stop, fervently hoping that she wouldn't start apologising again.

"I didn't either," she admitted. "It just kind of… happened. What should we do now? Even when bent by my Innocence, the rules of time won't break. This, uh, time-stop, won't last forever."

"Well, I can't exactly stay here," Allen stated miserably, his head hung low.

"Yeah," Lavi sighed heavily, and Lenalee sobbed again as she tightened her hold on Allen.

"Promise to take care of your self, Allen," she whispered.

"I promise," he replied, and she let him go.

"C'mon, Allen," said Lavi, grabbing the newly-awakened Noah's hand. "We can get away quickly by riding on my hammer." He turned towards Lenalee and Miranda. "You girls make sure they can't get any evidence that could implicate you in the escape." Without waiting for anyone to reply, he removed from his belt the hammer that played host to his Innocence. "Size shifting hammer, grow! Grow! Grow!" he shouted. The hammer increased in size every time he said 'grow' until it was, for lack of a better word, massive. Lavi jumped up onto the hammer, dragging Allen after him, and soon they were sailing through the air as the hammer's handle extended by a truly significant amount.

When the hammer stopped, Lavi and Allen leapt down to the ground, and Timcampy darted up into the air to hover above Allen's head. "We'll need to lay low for quite awhile…" Lavi began, but then he was interrupted by Allen.

"We?" he asked blankly, uncomprehending.

"Well, of course. You can't expect me to let you wander about all be yourself. You'd get yourself buried up to your chin in trouble within an hour!" a grinning Lavi replied teasingly.

"As if we'd keep out of trouble with _you_ around," Allen retorted, smiling. Then the smile slid from his face like a water-droplet from a leaf. "You have to go back, Lavi. Levrier'll think I escaped on my own and you can go on being an exorcist."

"What if I don't want to go back?" Lavi's fists were clenched and he looked frustrated. "What if I don't care about being an exorcist? What if I only want to stay with you?"

"I've got to keep walking, Lavi, but I don't want you to follow me on this path. You have to stay, for Lenalee and all the others – "

"Don't you ever think of yourself, bean-sprout?"

Allen's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Don't call me bean-sprout!"

Lavi laughed briefly, and then became serious again. "I'm coming."

"No… stay here for me, Lavi. Stay because I can't. Protect the others in my stead. _Please_, Lavi." By this stage, Allen was basically begging.

Lavi seemed torn. He wanted to stay with Allen, but logic dictated that he could help Allen more by staying with the Black Order. In the end, logic won out.

"Fine," he reluctantly conceded. "I'll stay for now, but you have to promise that you'll put yourself first from now on, Allen. Don't argue – it's no more than you deserve."

"I'll do my best," Allen sighed. "Thank you, Lavi." He then looked at his red-haired friend in a contemplative manner. "Well as long as this is goodbye," he muttered under his breath, and then, carefully avoiding Lavi's eye he quietly confessed; "I _love_ you, Lavi." The grey skin of his face gained a pinkish hue. He hoped that he hadn't ruined everything.

Lavi kissed his mouth.

The kiss was sweet and warm; completely perfect.

"I love you too, Allen. Are you sure you won't have me come with you?"

For one glorious moment, Allen envisioned a future in which he was not alone. A future in which he had Lavi, the one he loved, by his side. The vision soon vanished, however, and cold reality took its place. He would not allow Lavi to follow him on the darkened path which he must now take. "Go back, Lavi," he whispered. "Miranda won't be able to hold the time-stop forever. Go back before Levrier notices you missing." Lavi visibly hesitated, then nodded jerkily, and soon he was perched upon the once-again extending hammer, sailing through the air towards the dark tower that, until now, had been Allen's home.

Timcampy resting on his head, Allen turned away to begin his journey.

– **Flashback will be continued. **


	5. Recognition

Akuma can be destroyed by means other than Innocence, but if they are, their soul cannot be saved. It is lost forever. Imagine then the suffering it would cause Allen Walker to still see the suffering of those souls, yet be incapable of freeing them. All because Malcolm Levrier was ruthless, manipulative and suspicious of Allen. Therefore, whilst Allen was travelling relentlessly about the world, generally lying low in order to evade the Black Order, he was also trying in vain to find a way that he could continue to save the Akumas' souls. It became his obsession, his number one reason for existing. He remembered well his promise to Lavi, but what was the use of putting himself before all others if he was driven mad in the process? In a twisted kind of way, he _was_ putting himself first, or his sanity at least.

Early on in his travels, he acquired a plain brown coat with a hood under which Timcampy, who was well-known to the Order, stayed hidden most of the time. This hood also provided him with a means through which he could hide his conspicuous white hair. There were very few places in the world that he did not at least pass through after his forced departure from the Black Order. Despite this, and in spite of his relentless research, he was unable to find a way to help the Akumas' suffering souls.

After six months he couldn't bear it anymore, and succeeded in gorging out his cursed eye.

Within a few weeks the eye came back again, curse and all, just as it had the other two times it had been severely injured. He resumed his search for a way to save the Akuma, but this time he also searched for a way that he may, failing that, rid himself of the curse.

Eventually, he stumbled across a waitress called Sara Bones who was the accommodator of an Innocence in the form of a bejewelled dagger she had inherited from her late father. Allen filled her in and appointed Timcampy to guide her to the Black Order Headquarters. "Stay with Lavi or Linalee when you get there, Tim," said Allen. "Let them know I'm alright, but make sure none of Levrier's people see you."

Before they parted ways, he managed to persuade her to cut out his eye with her dagger. He figured that the curse originated from an Akuma, so perhaps Innocence could destroy it where other methods failed. By this time, he had pretty much given up on ever finding a way to resume the duties of an exorcist.

The dagger worked. Neither the eye nor the curse ever came back, although the scar remained.

He continued to wander throughout the world, but now he had no purpose other than to survive. The majority of his life had been dedicated to the extermination of Akuma, and he had all but forgotten what it was to walk a different path. His eyes became dull, dead, devoid of the life and determination with which they once brimmed. His memories of his friends in general, and Lavi in particular, were the only things that kept him from giving up. As more time passed, many of those memories became less poignant. He was alone, and living for the hope that it might not always be so. More than anything else, he longed to see Lavi once again.

Despite the looming despair, Allen never once allowed himself to lose at poker. The master of cheating, he was at least able to hold his own financially.

"He's cheating; I know he is," a man whispered to his companions.

"Yes, but we can't prove it," said another.

That was when the six large men noticed that they, Allen and a single diminutive barmaid were the only people currently occupying this part of the tavern.

Allen stumbled into the forest, covered with bruises and bleeding from several nasty gashes. He fell to his knees, coughing. His legs began to feel numb from contact with the snow and he lacked the energy to move. His eyes began to drift closed. It would be so easy to just fall asleep and forget the world…

A hard slap across his face pulled him out of the deadly lethargy. He shook himself, shedding the layer of snow that had formed a chilly blanket over him, and then looked up to see who was crazy enough to transpire the forest in this weather. He gasped in surprise at the face he saw gazing down at him.

"Haven't you ever heard that you shouldn't fall asleep in a blizzard, Allen-kun?" said Rhode Kamelot as she held a purple umbrella above their heads.

"What are _you_ doing here?" he snarled.

Rhode laughed softly, a sound like the tinkling of bells. "I've missed you, Allen-kun," she pouted. "Haven't you missed me?"

"No. I can't say I have."

"The Black Order turned on you, didn't they? After everything you've done for them…"

"I don't see how that's any of your concern. We are enemies, after all."

"Why? I've always liked you, Allen-kun, and you're a Noah now; one of the family."

"I don't want –"

Rhode's lips crashed into his, cutting him off. Allen just knelt there, unresponsive.

"I'm sorry, Rhode," he said quietly when she finally drew back. "I can't be what you want me to be."

Rhode gazed at him, unusually still and contemplative. "Because of Bookman Junior?" she finally asked, referring to Lavi's status as the Bookman's heir. It was the purpose of a Bookman to record history at all costs.

Allen remained silent, and Rhode nodded, apparently satisfied with her conclusion. "So you can't be my lover," she stated. "I'll deal with that 'cause you two look so good together." Allen looked at her with surprise – he hadn't expected her to give up so easily. She giggled and said; "I'm not giving up, not really. Aren't you sick of being alone all the time, Allen-kun? You can't go back to your 'friends', and you can't stay with normal people 'cause you're constantly dodging the Order."

The girl's words struck a cord with Allen, and he clenched his fists as his heart seemed to ache. "I am… sick of being alone," he muttered, almost catatonic.

"Then come with me, brother. Join the family."

"I can't…"

"Why can't you? Because you somewhere else to go? You are welcome among us, and you won't be alone anymore."

It was that last sentence that caused Allen to accept Rhode's outstretched hand, and walk by her side through the door she summoned. Because he was truly tired of being alone, and the monsters scattered among the ranks of the Black Order suddenly seemed so much worse than anything the Millennium Earl could ever conjure.

---END FLASHBACK---

Allen and Harry sat in companionable silence. The sun had long-since finished its descent behind the mountain, and a gibbous moon hovered far above, casting a gentle silver glow over the courtyard. It occurred to Harry that the time of Remus Lupin's monthly torturous transformation was drawing nigh. He had neither seen nor heard from his former Professor in over a year, and he idly wondered where he was and how he was fairing. A troubled frown marred his expression as something else occurred to him. "I'm a Noah working towards mankind's destruction, yet I still care for my human friends. That is troublesome… I don't want to choose between my family and my friends."

Something flickered in Allen's eyes and his lips twitched into what could almost be considered a smile. "So you don't necessarily agree with the Earl's aims?"

"I do," Harry quickly protested. "Or at least, a large part of me does. I think… that part of me does disagree, though. Truthfully, I'm not really sure what I should do." He frowned, miserable. Previously, he had mostly managed to dodge and avoid such uncomfortable thoughts. Now, however, he found that he was no longer able to skirt around such issues.

"That you don't want to choose between the Noah clan and your human friends is understandable. Perhaps you can keep both for a while, but eventually you _will_ have to choose. There's no doubt about that."

"What should I do?" By the time Harry's brain caught up with his mouth, there was no way to take the question back.

Allen shrugged. "Who am I to dictate another's path? I will give you one piece of advice, however. Keep walking. Whatever path you choose… Mana told me this shortly after he took me in, and it has served me well ever since."

The door leading onto the balcony swung open once again, and Allen and Harry both turned to look at the akuma that stood there. A young man with high cheekbones and a long nose, he bowed at the waste and said; "Master Noahs, the Millennium Earl would like to speak with you."

The two Noahs rose to their feet and followed the akuma through the door and into a dark hallway lit only by a small plethora of candles. From there, they were led the length of the afore-mentioned hallway, and into a spacious room with beige walls and a white ceiling. The Earl sat in a rocking chair close to a fire crackling merrily behind an ornate grate. He clasped a couple of knitting needles in his hands, a mess of orange wool pooled in his lap. Rhode was sprawled on the carpet several feet away, licking a large, colourful lollipop and looking bored. She brightened immediately when she caught sight of the boys.

"Allen! Harry! Hola," she yelled, grinning widely. (AN: 'Hola' is Spanish for 'hello'.)

"Hola, Rhode," replied Harry as he enthusiastically returned her smile. Tilting his head slightly to the side so that his gaze was focused on the Earl, he inquired; "You have something to say to us, Earl?" Behind him, Allen remained silent and expressionless.

"I have a job for you, my dear children," the Earl cheerfully replied. "There's a small village just outside the Black Forest where I have reason to believe an Innocence exists. At least one exorcist is already present. Would you be willing to destroy the Innocence and deal with the exorcist?"

"Ooooohhhh! That sounds like fun! Can I go too, Millennie?" Rhode asked, springing to her feet and bouncing up and down in her excitement.

The Earl chuckled. "Of course. I was going to ask you anyway, Rhode. This is Harry's first mission, after all, and Allen hasn't been with us for very long either."

"Yay!" shouted the excitable Dreams of Noah. "You're the best, Millennie!"

"A group of Akuma will be sent to assist you however you see fit. Now, as for the location of the village…"

Some time later Allen and Harry stood behind the Black Forest's northern tree line, peering at a small, old-fashioned village through the curtain of pine needles. A small black shoe clipped Harry's ear, and he tilted his head back, glaring up at its owner. "Whoops. Sorry, Harry," said Rhode, not really sounding sorry at all. Moments later she had resumed swinging her legs backwards and forwards at she methodolically stripped bark from the gnarled branch on which she sat. When she had gathered a large handful, she tossed it down onto the top of Allen's head.

Allen sighed and rolled his eyes. "What do you want, Rhode?"

"I'm bored. When are the stupid Akuma gonna get here?"

"I don't know. And we've only been here for two minutes."

"I'm still bored. Play with me, Alleeeeennnnn-kun, Harrrrryyyyy-kun."

Allen rolled his eyes once again. Harry wondered how someone so cute could be so annoying. Then he caught sight of her pouting expression, sighed, and said; "What do you want to play, Rhode?"

Allen gave Harry a look that seemed to say; _you're an idiot._ Rhode grinned sadistically, and Harry swallowed, beginning to think that the look Allen gave him may have been well-deserved.

A twig snapped underfoot, and three pairs of sharp golden eyes immediately focused on an approaching gang of human-formed Akuma. (AN: Allen's eye regenerates [although without the power to see the souls of Akuma] when he assumes his Noah form.) Harry gasped with shock when he saw the last one's face.


	6. Crush

"Amos Diggory!" gasped Harry, eyes wide.

"Huh? Do you know him, Harry-kun?" said Rhode.

"Y-yeah." He looked at the Akuma, hoping for some sign of recognition.

"Your orders, Master Noah?"

Allen placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "He's a Level 1, they don't have any personality," he whispered. "Don't expect meaningful conversation anytime soon." Harry nodded shakily. He already knew everything that Allen had just told him, but the shock of seeing someone he knew among the ranks of the Akuma had temporarily driven it from his mind. Now that he thought of it, an Akuma that looked like Mr. Diggory would certainly not _be_ Mr. Diggory.

"Are you Cedric?" he asked with a growing sense of horror.

The Akuma slowly nodded, his expression blank.

"How long have you been an Akuma?"

"Five weeks, Master Noah."

Harry's teeth plunged into the tender flesh of his lower lip. A stream of blood trickled down his chin as his lip throbbed painfully, and his tongue slipped out of his mouth to lap it up. He was surprised to find that it didn't taste entirely unpleasant. _It seems that I've acquired something of a literal thirst for blood. I wonder what Dumbledore would make of that._ He fought the urge to giggle at that thought. His gaze fell once more upon Amos – no, _Cedric_ Diggory, and all traces of humour vanished from his mind. "We're looking for an unidentified Innocence," he stated, voice wintry. "Look around, but _do_ try to be somewhat inconspicuous. It will be best if our cover isn't blown straight away."

"Yes, Master Noah."

"Yes, Lord Noah."

"Yes, Noah-sama."

"Yes, Master Noah."

The group of Akuma ambled out of the trees and dispersed as they entered the streets, two going straight ahead and two veering to the left. Rhode laughed wickedly and clapped her hands. "Let's get going, shall we? I wonder if they sent a pretty exorcist… I haven't had a new doll to play with in a while." Allen winced, his fists clenching at his sides.

"The Earl told us to find the Innocence and deal with the exorcist… I don't think that involves making a toy of them," said Harry firmly. His gaze was fixed upon Allen's face.

"Awww. But that'd be _boring_. Besides, I'm sure he wouldn't mind… There's no need to be such a killjoy, Harry," Rhode pouted.

"Let's just go," said Allen, his voice slightly strained. It was clear from his tone that he wanted nothing more than to get this over with.

The three of them shifted to their 'white' forms, their human forms, and Harry slipped his glasses out of his pocket and put them on before following the other teens out of the forest. He had found that, whilst in his white form, his vision was just as poor as ever, and in his 'black' form, his Noah form, he could see perfectly without his glasses. Having been near-blind his whole life, he was unaware that his vision as a Noah far exceeded that which was normal, or indeed possible, for a more ordinary human.

"The sun will rise soon," said Allen, turning his face towards the east.

"Really?" said Harry, a nostalgic smile appearing as he also turned to the east. "I never saw a sunrise before I went to Hogwarts. I stayed up all night after my first Friday there just so that I'd finally be able to see it. I had to pinch myself several times towards the end so that I wouldn't fall asleep, but it was worth it. I'd always wanted to see it."

"We'll see it better from a rooftop," said a widely-grinning Rhode. "C'mon Allen, Harry." She skipped over to a tall ladder leaned conveniently against a clay-brick wall and began to climb. Harry darted after her, determined to keep up, and Allen followed, somewhat more reluctantly.

Harry and Rhode lay flat on their backs side by side, their heads cushioned by their hands. Allen sat further up the roof, leaning nonchalantly against the worn brick chimney. Rhode was fidgeting, wide grin still in place as she tapped her feet on the tiles. "You seem happy," Harry observed, his shockingly green eyes meeting her equally blue ones.

She giggled quietly. "Of course I am," she sang. "What girl wouldn't be, watching the sunrise with her two favourite boys?"

Harry blushed. Allen smiled in spite of himself. "I'm kinda hungry. Should I go get an egg to fry on your face, Harry?" he teased.

"Shut up, Allen," snapped Harry. His fingers closed around a loose tile, and he flung it at Allen's head. The white-haired Noah leaned swiftly to the side, and the tile shattered harmlessly against the chimney. Allen smiled innocently in reply to Harry's consequent glare. Harry pushed himself into a sitting position, and Rhode laughed merrily.

"On the way here I saw a bakery that opens at eight. If you get too hungry before then, we can just break in," Rhode told Allen teasingly. He shook his head, smile still in place. Harry bit back a yelp as Rhode unexpectedly flung herself at him and wrapped her arms around him. "There's no need for you to get embarrassed so easily, Harry," she whispered, and nuzzled his neck. His face flared red once again, but faded back to a more regular hue as he managed to conquer his embarrassment. He hesitated, and then wrapped his arms around her.

"Do you want to go on a date after this mission?" he asked nervously, rushing to say it before his nerve failed him. She drew back to look at him analytically.

"Sure!" she finally chirped after a whole half-minute of watching him squirm. The smirk on her face strongly suggested that she had drawn out giving her answer on purpose, enjoying his apprehension.

Already, it was rather more light than it had been when they arrived. The sun began to make its appearance, peeping out between two rugged mountain peaks. Three pairs of eyes turned to watch it.

Together they reclined upon this tiled rooftop to watch the dawn of a new day, three members of a close-knit race of which records were hidden in the pages of Genesis, first book of the Bible. Some would call them devils in disguise, but they called each other family, and gave no regard to the condemnations of those others.

"DON'T CALL ME YU, BAKA USAGI!" The shout came from a building across the road. Unnoticed by the others, the colour drained from Allen's face, leaving him almost as white as the fluffy clouds dotted throughout the sky.

The building's front door slammed open and a redhead with a black patch covering his right eye, reminiscent of the stereotypical pirate, fled through it and into the dusty street. Shortly after, a Japanese youth with exceedingly long hair also ran through the door, brandishing a sword and snarling.

"Hn, exorcists," said Rhode. "Bookman Junior and the merciless samurai who killed Skin. I do believe I'm going to enjoy this." At the mention of 'Bookman Junior', Harry's gaze turned to Allen, and he finally noticed the pasty shade the former exorcist's face had assumed.

"How about we leave 'Bookman Junior' to Allen?" said Harry, a hard glint in his eye as he imagined Ron and Hermione wielding Innocence, and Rhode approaching them with that same sadism reflected in her eyes.

Rhode hummed thoughtfully and tapped her finger against her chin. "Perhaps… Do you think you're ready to deal with him, Allen-kun?"

"No less than you were to deal with _me_ after our first meeting," Allen replied reflectively, some of the colour returning to his skin as he looked at her with unfathomable eyes.

"Good reply," Rhode laughed. "I kissed you, didn't I?"

"More like kiss-raped," said Allen dryly.

Rhode smirked. "Well, I don't suppose Millennie would mind _too_ much if one exorcist managed to escape. Our main aim's to destroy the Heart, anyway." The Heart was a legendary Innocence that was the key to victory in the war between the Black Order and the Millennium Earl. If the exorcists identified the Heart first, it would grant them the power to win. If the Earl's forces found and destroyed it first, all other Innocences would shatter in the same moment, and nothing would stand between them and humanity's destruction.

Allen turned a worried gaze towards the long-haired youth, but then relaxed visibly. It was as though he had just remembered something that comforted him. Harry wondered if the other was also a friend to his new brother-figure.

By now, the samurai had trapped Lavi against a wall, the sword at his throat. "Don't call me Yu," he growled, unaware of the rapt observers. Lavi, however, seemed to have noticed them. He paled even as a small smile flitted into existence, and then his expression became studiously blank.

"We should look for the Innocence now, Kanda," he said in an uncharacteristically serious voice. "We haven't checked over there yet." He gestured over his shoulder, behind him, in the opposite direction to that which would lead him to the Noahs.

"Tch," said Kanda, sheathing the sword at his side. He turned and stalked moodily down the street, moving away from the Noahs. Lavi glanced up at Allen, who gave him a smile and a nod. He glanced at Rhode and Harry, who were still locked in a loose embrace, and then back at Allen, who shrugged apologetically. Harry waved playfully. Lavi just raised his eyebrows, then turned on his heel and hurried after Kanda.

Lavi was not quite as surprised as one might think at seeing Allen in the company of a known Noah (Rhode) and someone he strongly suspected of also being a member of the clan. It had been many months, after all, and Levrier was cunning, resourceful, and determined to bring Allen under his mercy. Allen would need all the allies he could get if he was to escape the horrors the tyrannical Catholic had planned for him. Komui, director of the Black Order's European branch and devoted older brother to Linalee, had only just managed to save their newest exorcist, Sara Bones, from being tortured for information on he who had sent her to the Order, Allen Walker.

"What took you so long, idiot rabbit?" snapped Kanda when Lavi finally caught up to him. The Bookman-in-training forced a false laugh.

"Ah, nothing, just admiring the view. (AN: Look for double meanings…) This really is a picturesque town. You should stop to admire the view too, Yu."

"_Don't_ call me Yu, idiot. And here I was thinking you might actually take this seriously for once."

Lavi shrugged absent-mindedly, his fingers curling around the handle of his hammer. His gaze swept nervously over his surroundings. He was not so naïve as to think that the Noahs would refrain from attacking simply because Allen was with them.

Quite a few early risers had already begun to drift into the streets, and an elderly woman approached them, a basket of seashells hanging from her arm. "Excuse me, young sirs," she said. "Would you like to buy some of my shells?" Both exorcists tensed. She could be an innocent human, but she could just as easily be an Akuma looking to assassinate them.

"How much?" asked Lavi, pretending to be oblivious as he bent to look in the basket. A mechanical clicking noise sounded, and Lavi swung his hammer up, slamming it into the cannon-like appendage that had just emerged from the woman's face. She disintegrated with a shrill scream. The surrounding people turned to stare at them with curiosity at the same moment as the form of a nearby man twisted grotesquely, and a giant, ball-shaped Akuma with cannons jutting out of various points of its body and horns emerging from its relatively small clown-like head burst out of his skin. The surrounding civilians screamed and fled.

Kanda sprung forward to confront the Akuma, sword in hand. The sword was called Mugen, and it was Kanda's Innocence. "First illusion! Hells insects!" he shouted, and a swarm of hellish-looking insects appeared and darted towards the Akuma with Kanda in their wake. Mugen slashed into the Akuma, and it too disintegrated. Kanda snorted; disgusted at the lack of fight he had received from his opponent.

The sound of clapping echoed throughout the near-deserted street, and the heads of both exorcists swivelled around so that they were looking at two Noahs sitting out the front of a colourful café. Rhode Kamelot was the one clapping, golden eyes mirthful. Harry Potter abandoned the soda he was sipping in favour of giving them all of his attention.

"_Another_ Noah?" said Kanda. "You just keep appearing like cockroaches, don't you?"

"You're very rude," Harry observed, almost mocking.

Kanda began to raise Mugen again, but Rhode raised a hand and said; "Hold it. Don't you want to hear the rules before you start to play ex-or-cists?"

"I don't need rules to slice you open with my Mugen," growled Kanda.

"You're my opponent, killer of Skin," said Rhode. "Neither of us will go after Bookman Junior until the samurai's defeated. That should give you a chance to get the Innocence, hm, Lavi?"

"Why…"

"Oh, I just want my chance at revenge."

"Go, Lavi," Kanda snarled. "Collect the Innocence, and I'll annihilate this scum."

"But–"

"_Go_. Our first priority is to collect the Innocence."

Harry raised an eyebrow and mouthed 'don't you want to talk to him?'

For many years Lavi's only constant identity had been that of Bookman's heir; all other identities had been donned and shed as easily as garments. Even the name and personality of 'Lavi' had originated from the mask he had chosen to interact with the Black Order.

But then something had changed. He had come to care for Lavi's friends. He had become the mask.

More specifically, he had come to care for Allen. If Allen had not been present, he may have still come to care somewhat for the others, but he never would have begun to despise his status as the future Bookman.

_A Bookman has no need of a heart._

How many times had he heard that? How many times had he told himself that? But he did have a heart. Allen had given him one without even realising it, and he cared about Allen more than he cared about being either an exorcist or a Bookman.

That was the real reason he nodded at Kanda and walked away from the pending battle.


	7. Blood Pops

The world changed. Warm sunlight, dusty streets, quaint brick houses and colourful shopfronts faded out of existence. A dark room took their place. Porcelain faces of black-clad dolls glared eerily from under the half-light of many hovering candles, and various macabre paintings lined the walls. Two luxurious striped chairs stood side-by-side somewhere towards the centre of the room, a pile of sweets between them.

This place was Rhode's creation; her dream world. It could be whatever she wanted it to be, and this room was a particular favourite of hers.

She seized Harry's hand and skipped over to the chairs, forcing him to jog to keep up. She swiped a red lollipop from the pile before climbing up into one of the chairs. "When you told me about Honeydukes, I just _had_ to pay it a visit," she cheerfully chirped. Indeed, about half the pile was made up of such things as sugar quills, Bertie Bott's every flavour beans and Drooble's best blowing gum. And that red lollipop looked somewhat suspicious…

"Is that blood flavoured?"

"Yeah. Want one?"

"I'll pass for now. Maybe later." He eyed the pile of sweets, then shrugged and sprung nimbly into his chair without taking any. Less than a second later, Mugen swept through air that had previously been occupied by Harry's neck. "Too slow," he taunted with a smirk. _Rhode's right. This is kinda fun._ The afore-mentioned girl giggled and waved her lollipop about with both hands, in a mocking imitation of a sword. Kanda growled and stabbed at Harry's heart. Harry leaned swiftly to the side, and Mugen impaled his left arm instead.

It was pure agony, as though the sword had been removed from the heat of a forge mere moments before it was introduced to his flesh. The pain consumed him, and then it began to diminish.

Kanda had fallen back, his body and face riddled with wounds from pointy, dagger-sharp candles that now swirled around Harry in a protective whirlwind. Through the fading pain, Harry didn't know whether he felt more pitying or vindicated over the horrific, gaping holes that now took the place of the exorcist's eyes. Harry looked away from the grotesque scene, choosing to examine his arm instead.

It was blackened, charred. Skin and flesh was mangled, veins were exposed. "Heal it," said Rhode, and Harry gave her an inquiring, confused look. "Concentrate on it being healed, just like when you switch forms," she continued. "It's as easy as putting on a glove, really."

Smooth, unmarred skin slid over the appendage, just as though he really were putting on a glove. He laughed, revelling in the power. _Voldemort's sure in for a surprise if he tries anything this year._ He glanced back at the exorcist, and blinked at what he saw. It seemed that he and Rhode weren't the only ones here with supernatural healing abilities.

It was as though Kanda's healing process had been vastly accelerated; that which should have taken weeks or months to mend taking only minutes. Not only that, but his eyes also seemed to be growing back. Even as Harry watched, the exorcist clambered to his feet and, so softly that it was almost a whisper, said, "I won't die… until I find _that_ _person_."

"What person?" asked Harry curiously, although he didn't really expect an answer.

Kanda sprung towards Rhode, who also sprung forward, flinging herself straight into the blade. Harry's eyes widened with shock. "Rhode? RHODE!" Fists clenching, teeth champing, Harry glared furiously at Kanda, rage boiling through his veins.

Fire leapt from Harry's hands, intercepting Kanda as he leapt forward with Mugen in hand. The flames left smouldering blisters on Harry's hands, but they healed quickly, all pain vanishing as though it were never there. It was almost as though his body were especially well equipped for dealing with that ravenous element that grows with all it devours.

Loud, girlish laughter that was maniacal in its intensity met his ears, and he pivoted to see Rhode laughing wildly as her entire body healed over just as smoothly as his arm had. "Rhode!" said Harry excitedly. He embraced her, and his own wild, mad laughter joined her own. _I'm going crazy, _some detached part of his brain observed._ Hell, this whole family is crazy. _He supposed it was just as well that he didn't really care.

"Your power's getting stronger," she murmured into his ear.

"That healing… Is it a power of all exorcists, or just that one?"

"Just that one, I think. Most can't, at any rate."

Kanda emerged from the flames, still badly burnt but miraculously _alive_. Now Harry knew what had prompted Allen to cast aside the worry his eyes had held for the samurai. Rhode tilted her head to the side as though listening to something, and then said, "I _will_ find a way to kill you, exorcist. I _will_ avenge Skin. But for now…" One of her heart-shaped doors appeared behind her, and she grabbed Harry's hand. Just before they stepped through the door, he glanced back to see that the room had begun to dissolve, faint outlines of brick houses and the colourful café slowly fading into existence.

They appeared beside Allen in a familiar street, the same one they had followed through the village before taking to the rooftop. People gasped at their sudden appearance, and most fled in fear. "Witches!" cried a woman, one of the few who had remained, and keeled over in a faint. One burly man scooped her up into his arms and also fled. Now a skinnier man was the only one remaining besides Allen, Harry and Rhode. "Get away from them, boy!" he shouted to Allen, brandishing a crucifix as though he thought them fell creations of Count Dracula.

Rhode laughed. "Why would he have to flee his family?" she asked, and placed an arm around Allen's shoulders. Harry felt an irrational flare of jealousy that he ruthlessly quashed before it had a chance to mature. The villager ran forward, madness taking form within his eyes, and aimed a punch at Harry, who intercepted the blow with an open palm. The man screamed as smoke rose from his scalded fist. Harry let him go, his lips curling sardonically. "Leave us, fool." With much whimpering and cursing, the man obeyed.

"Pathetic," muttered Rhode, and then turned to Allen. "Did you get the Innocence, Allen?" In reply, the white-haired boy withdrew a glowing green orb from his coat's pocket. Harry inhaled sharply as a strange rage assaulted him. It was as though the very existence of this orb was a personal insult to him.

"Is that… _Innocence_?" he asked, practically spitting the last word. Rhode nodded with a sneer upon her lips. Allen alone seemed unaffected by its presence. Rhode snatched it from his hand, and crushed it. Instantly, Harry straightened as unnatural tension lifted from his shoulders. Frowning at his own reaction, he said quietly, "I want to go for a walk alone."

Rhode studied him closely, and then nodded. "I understand. We'll meet back here in… fifteen minutes?"

Smiling gratefully, Harry nodded then turned on his heel and strode away down a side street.

He watched from behind dusty glass at a bookstore window as Lavi and Kanda were reunited. Some burns still marred the samurai's flesh, but they were much less severe than they had been previously. Harry's eyebrows rose when Lavi presented a glowing green orb identical to the one Rhode had destroyed. _So there were two Innocences here. _He felt the same anger as before; the same urge to destroy the substance. At this distance, however, it was a bearable urge that he was able to ignore, and so he decided that he would keep Allen's secret. _Were I any closer, I would probably butcher them just to get at it._ He was greatly relieved when the exorcists left his line of sight.

When he next saw Rhode and Allen they were accompanied by a young woman, the sole Akuma remaining from the small band that had accompanied them into the village. Harry's feelings over the destruction of Cedric were mixed. Was he sad that Cedric had died again, once again indirectly because of him, or was he glad that the Akuma's soul was now at peace if the curse on Allen's former eye was anything to go by? _Will Mrs Diggory now seek to bring back her husband?_ he thought despairingly.

"You seem troubled, Harry-nii," said Rhode. "Is something the matter?"

"Ah… No," he replied. "It's nothing, Rhode." And he lifted his arm to ruffle her gravity-defying hair, smiling fondly. _Rest in peace, Cedric. May your father avoid your fate. _"You know, I've heard that there's supposed to be vampires in the Black Forest…"

"Ooooo, really?" said Rhode, a wicked smile taking form. "Hey, Akuma!"

"Yes, Lady Rhode?"

"Go let the Earl know that we've completed our mission, but we're staying a bit longer to look for vampires."

"We're WHAT?!" said Allen, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead.

"Yes, Lady Rhode," said the Akuma, and turned to begin walking away.

"Wait!" called Harry, and the Akuma stopped. "Wouldn't it be quicker if she used one of your doors, Rhode?"

"Mmm, fine," said Rhode, frowning, and a heart-shaped door grew out of the ground. "Go, Akuma," she snapped, and the woman hurried out of sight through the door.

So it was that three members of the Noah clan found themselves hiking through the Black Forest in search of vampires. "Are you sure we should be doing this?" said Allen nervously. "Are vampires even _real_?"

"Of course they are," said Rhode confidently. "I read all about them in _Voyages With Vampires_. Is there really a spell to render them incapable of eating anything but lettuce?"

"Er… I don't think so," said Harry. "Lockhart's a complete fraud, Rhode. The only reason I have his books is because he was my teacher in second year. Hang on… when did you read that anyway?"

"Didn't you know? I've been stealing your things ever since you joined us."

"Er… right. Well… don't believe everything Lockhart writes. And give everything back before term starts."

"Alright. But you have to help me with my homework."

"You would have made him do that anyway," commented Allen. Rhode laughed.

Besides the dwelling place of the Noah clan, the Black Forest was the first place outside England that Harry had ever visited. With its countless pines and firs, both ancient and otherwise, and its unique wildlife, he thought it very beautiful. In this part of the Forest sunlight was filtered through a thick, many-layered blanket of pine-needles that plunged their surroundings into premature twilight.

"The Boy Who Lived, in this age so famed that even my ears have heard. How fateful it is that we two here do meet." The speaker was a tall, pale man with dark hair and eyes. What with the dark shadows under his red-rimmed eyes, he had something of the look of an insomniac. His smile revealed wicked fangs that drew Harry's attention only slightly more than his emaciated, unhealthy appearance. "My greetings to you, children," he continued. "I am Sanguini."

"Uh, hi," muttered Harry.

"It's an honour to meet you, Mr. Sanguini," said Allen.

"Here, have a sweet," said Rhode, and shoved a red lollipop into his hand. The vampire looked surprised for a moment, but then his expression returned to the boredom that Harry was beginning to think his customary face.

"Very kind of you, little lady," he said with a courteous bow. His lips twitched with something like amusement. "Whilst traversing my esteemed homeland, the Schwarzwald, few are the humans who count among their supplies blood-flavoured sweets."

"What can I say?" said Rhode, her expression gleeful. "They're… _sweet_. So, you're a vampire, hm?"

"That is correct."

Rhode laughed and clapped her hands. "Yay! I finally get to meet a vampire!"

_Is that really something to be celebrating?_ Allen and Harry thought simultaneously. The vampire laughed and said, "Such an unusual young lady you are, Miss. You inspire a certain interest, I confess."

Allen and Harry watched with bemusement as Sanguini and Rhode proceeded to get along marvellously, chattering away like the oldest of friends. When the conversation turned to ancient torture devices, the two Noah boys drifted out of earshot. "Are you sure we should leave…" Harry began, but was interrupted by Allen.

"She can take care of herself quite well enough, and I don't exactly want to know the details of an Iron Maiden's function or the most effective way to impale people."

As Allen and Harry played rock-paper-scissors whilst keeping an eye each on their 'sister' and her new friend, they were interrupted by a handsome man in formal-wear, with grey skin, golden eyes, and the crown-of-thorns stigmata across his forehead.

"I see you found your vampire," said Tyki Mykk. "Hmmm… Rhode seems to be getting along well with him."

"What an understatement," Harry laughed. "They've been like that for at least an hour now. We made our retreat when they started arguing over whether more pain can be inflicted using candles or knives."

"Tyki!" Rhode called out, excitedly waving him over. "Meet Sanguini. Sanguini, this is Tyki. He's from my family. Hey, Tyki, ya know Sanguini personally knew Vlad Tepes! How cool is that?"

Tyki made some sort of noncommittal sound, exchanged pleasantries with Rhode's vampire friend, and then said, "The Earl wants you three to come back now."

Sanguini took Rhode's hand and kissed her fingertips. "Farewell, Rhode Kamelot. Mayhap we shall meet again, fate willing. Our conversation has awakened within me an urge to enter once again into the whirl and rush of human society."

"Fate willing," murmured Rhode, and gave a small curtsy.

Later, back in his room at the Noahs' house, Harry was pulled from half-slumber by a tapping at the window. He leapt to his feet and opened his window to let in Hedwig, and then removed her parchment burden. It seemed that she must have payed Hogwarts a visit in order to pick up his booklist.

"Good girl."


	8. Reunion

Whispers and stares followed Harry from the moment he entered Diagon Alley with Rhode by his side. He had thought to double going to the Alley for school supplies with his date with Rhode, but hadn't counted on receiving even more attention than usual. The mystery of those furtive looks, and the way people skirted away from him was solved by Rhode's careful examination of a newspaper.

"Apparently you're either an attention-seeking liar or delusional. Bah. The whole world is insane and delusional. That's why it should be burnt to the ground." Harry groaned as the few people who had previously been ignoring them gave them strange, somewhat frightened looks, before hurrying out the apothecary door.

"Not so loud, Rhode," he hissed in her ear. She laughed at him, but refrained from making similar comments after that, instead amusing herself by staring right back at people who stared at them, her mouth agog as though they were rare specimens in a zoo. When that did not send them scurrying, she would give them wide, somewhat disturbing grins or laugh evilly. They were inevitably left alone after that. Harry pretended to be exasperated by her behaviour, but was secretly grateful for her own unique form of support. Although she said nothing to indicate it, the way she looked at him caused him to suspect that she knew.

"This looks interesting," she commented. "What's down there, Harry-kun?"

"That's Knockturn Alley," he replied, grimacing. "It's not a pleasant place… It's full of all kinds of dark and forbidden… Stop, Rhode!" And he grabbed her arm to prevent her from charging down the dark, ominous path.

"Awww. But it sounds _so_ interesting. Let's go, Harry-kun. We might meet another vampire!"

"You met a vampire?" asked Ron, his voice faint. Wait… Ron!?

"Ron, where… HARRY!" And it seemed that Hermione had just rounded a corner as well. She flung her arms around him, squeezing him tightly until he began to turn blue. Rhode cleared her throat loudly.

"You're preventing my boyfriend from breathing, Hermione Granger," she said expressionlessly, and Harry's heart seemed to leap with happiness when she called him her boyfriend. Hermione turned bright red and released him from her embrace.

"Your… boyfriend?" she asked, staring at Rhode with poorly-disguised surprise. Rhode stared back unflinchingly, one sardonic eyebrow raised, and Hermione coughed, embarrassed. "But where have you been, Harry? We've all been panicking ever since you disappeared… What happened to you? Were you forced to leave, or…"

"I left because I wanted to," Harry replied, resolutely unashamed. Hermione faltered.

"But, but… That's so irresponsible!" she spluttered. "Anything could have happened… the wards…"

"He's safer with us than with them," Rhode interrupted, hostile. Ron and Hermione stared at her, unsettled.

"You're _living_ with her?" said Hermione when she had recovered, disapproval clear in her voice. "Won't that put her in danger?"

Rhode let out a loud snort of laughter before Harry had a chance to reply. "So what if it does? C'mon, Harry-kun. Let's go to Knockturn."

Hermione gasped and Ron's eyes went wide. "I told you we can't, Rhode," Harry protested. "Hey, stop!" And he dragged her back by her sleeve, away from the dark side-alley's yawning mouth.

"Why're you so eagre to go to Knockturn?" asked Ron, squinting suspiciously.

"It sounds interesting," Rhode petulantly replied. "Come _on_, Harry. I just wanna take a peak, _please._"

Harry felt his resolve begin to waver. "Well, we'll need hooded cloaks…" He was cut off by Rhode kissing his mouth.

"Thanks, Harry-kun," she said happily to her red-faced date.

"This is a horrible idea," Hermione muttered as she, Ron, Harry and Rhode stood getting outfitted for black hooded cloaks (Harry payed) in Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "I don't like this at all…"

"Shut up," interrupted Rhode. "No-one's making you come, Granger."

"Please _try_ to be nice to my friends, Rhode," said Harry, looking at her appealingly. She rolled her eyes, but acquiesced nonetheless.

"This is stupid," grumbled Hermione, glaring angrily at Rhode. "We should be letting the others know that Harry's here, not wandering down _that Alley_ of all places!"

In the end, Hermione sent Ron's owl Pigwidgeon, who showed up with convenient timing bearing a letter-reply from his brother Charlie, with a hurried note that read as follows;

_To Mrs Weasley,_

_We've found Harry; he's fine. We'll meet up with you later, and we won't leave magical London._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Hermione and Ron._

"I'm not letting you guys go into Knockturn alone," she whispered in conclusion.

"So you have a girlfriend now," said Ron, grinning. "Good for you, mate. But what was that about vampires?"

"We – that is me, Rhode and Allen; he's, um, Rhode's brother – met one in the Black Forest."

"You WHAT?!" shrieked Hermione, drawing stares. Most turned away after several seconds of awkward silence. A woman Harry recognised from the earlier 'Apothecary incident' said to the remainder; "Come away quickly; she's evil!" They left quickly, although not without many furtive glances backwards, after she added something, more quietly, about the end of the world.

"Seems that you're getting quite a reputation, Rhode," said Harry amusedly. Ron and Hermione exchanged uneasy glances, but followed them into Knockturn Alley nonetheless.

Hooded, identity-shrouding cloaks may have garnered more attention elsewhere, but here they were not so unusual that most people gave them more than a second glance. Even Rhode kept her voice low, giving wandering gazes no reason to pause upon their little group for overly long. Hermione drew in a sharp, involuntary breath when Rhode rejoined them outside _Arnold's Assassin Armoury_ with several wicked daggers in a leather bag at her side. "What happened to candles been better?" Harry muttered, effectively cutting off any comments Hermione might have made.

"Candles _are_ better," Rhode replied. "These are a gift for Sanguini."

"Who's Sanguini?" asked Ron.

"He's the vampire we met in the Black Forest," replied Harry.

"You're buying daggers for a vampire!? Are you crazy, girl?"

"He used to work with daggers as an assassin during the time of the Roman Empire," said Rhode in a matter-of-fact tone. "He was also originally one of the senators who stabbed Julius Caesar. Who doesn't get sentimental, meaningful gifts for their friends?"

Hermione stared at her with horror, Ron with incredulity. Harry barely batted an eyelash, as accustomed to such comments as he was. He nevertheless was relieved when they stepped once again into the bright light of Diagon Alley.

"There you are! I'm so glad you're alright, Harry dear." Well, at least someone besides Ron and Hermione was happy to see him he thought from within Mrs Weasley's enthusiastic embrace. "But what happened? Ah, no, you'd better not say here. You can tell us all about it later. Have you got your supplies yet?" Harry nodded, and he, Rhode, Ron, Hermione and Mrs Weasley began to make their way down the Alley. Mrs Weasley enquired after Rhode's identity.

"I'm Rhode Kamelot," she replied.

"She's my girlfriend," Harry added.

Those explanations were soon repeated in the Leaky Cauldron, local wizards' pub, for the benefit of the rest of the Weasley family. Ginny appeared unsatisfied with the explanation, glaring at Rhode through narrow eyes. Rhode ignored her, instead smiling charmingly at everyone else, although Harry could not help but notice the veiled contempt in her gaze. He smiled at her in spite of this, silently thanking her for the lack of open hostility.

Rhode maintained a generically polite mask as she gave most of her attention to picking up on the thoughts of those around her. It seemed that she was quite the dilemma for them. They couldn't just tell her to get; after all, she was Harry's girlfriend about whom they knew nothing. But that was just the problem, was it not? They couldn't just trust a stranger with the secret… the secret…

But what was the secret? Why couldn't she find that? She frowned, wishing that she could delve deeper, but her telepathy was only good for surface thoughts. But she was getting bored, and wanted to stir things up a bit…

And who should walk into the pub but a certain pair of arrogant blond purebloods. The Malfoys… Harry had told her about them. "Hola Mr Malfoy and clone," she called, waving wildly with mock enthusiasm. Harry snorted, Hermione smirked in spite of herself, and everyone else just looked confused.

"What's a clome?" Ron blankly inquired.

"I think I've heard of that," said Mr Weasley. "Something to do with zimesy, right?" Harry and Rhode stared.

"_Zimesy_?"

"Do you mean science, Mr Weasley," said Hermione, long-suffering exasperation in her voice.

"Simes… Yes that's right."

"No it's not," muttered Rhode, staring at the redhead in disbelief. "Are all wizards this clueless, Harry?"

"Are you a muggle, then?" asked Ron, staring at her with interest. "You're awfully brave for –"

"Unless you know a muggle that can make candles fly, then I really don't think I am one," she interrupted, annoyed.

"Do we know you?" asked Mr Malfoy, tentatively polite in just the same contemptuous manner as she.

"No, but I've heard of you," she idly replied. "I'm Rhode Kamelot."

"Kamelot… I don't think I've heard that name before." The contempt was becoming more obvious.

"Well, you wouldn't have. We're not a wizard family."

Lucius Malfoy sneered and turned on his heel, striding away as though he were putting distance between himself and something truly distasteful. His son lingered. "She your girlfriend, Potty? Figures you'd choose a mudblood." Outraged gasps sounded around them. Rhode smirked.

"Mudblood… You mean my blood's dirty, right? As opposed to your _pure_, ever-so-_clean_ blood?"

"C-correct," Malfoy stammered, put off balance by her smirk. Good. She did want to stir things up, after all… She stepped up to his side, standing on the tips of her toes to whisper into his ear.

"But is our blood _really_ that different, Draco? That's exactly what I intend to find out." She stepped back and beckoned. "If you want to prove that your blood's better…" She glanced around and saw that she, Harry, Granger, the Weasleys, Malfoy and the barman were the only people still in the pub. "Never mind, then. We'll do it here. Tell me, Draco, just how far are you willing to go to prove it?"

"W-what?"

She opened the leather bag at her side and drew out a particularly long and sharp dagger, the hilt of which appeared to be ivory carved into the form of a grinning miniature skull. Malfoy stumbled back, eyes wide with sudden fear.

"The knife's for Sanguini, but I'm sure he won't mind," she murmured, grinning sadistically. "Shall we slice open our veins to see whose blood's really the cleanest, Draco?"

"You're crazy!"

"Gentlemen first," she said mockingly, holding out the dagger towards him. "You really shouldn't leave a lady waiting, you know… Or are you _scared?_" Now she was mock-sympathetic. "That's alright. I'll do it for you, if you like." She slashed at his arm. Malfoy screamed and fled, slamming the door behind him. Pandemonium broke loose. In the chaos, she grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him with her out the door and into the darkening streets of muggle London. All clear, nobody seemed to have noticed…

Well, except for those two. Identical red-haired twins, named Fred and George judging by dear Harry's exclamation of their names. How many Weasleys were there anyway? At least almost as many as there were Noahs…

"That…"

"Was…"

"Brilliant."

"Did you see his face?"

"Brilliant."

Well, perhaps these ones weren't so bad. Harry-kun laughed quietly. "I probably shouldn't approve," he said; "but that _was_ brilliant!" He visibly sobered. "Don't do anything like it again, though. Daddy Malfoy's going to throw a big enough tantrum as it is; give him any more ammunition and what's left of my sanity will suffer the consequences." Rhode's eyes brightened considerably when she heard his tone. It was beautifully cruel and mocking.

"Harry," she whispered, lips curling. "There's something I'd like to show you. Don't you think Messieurs Weasley and Weasley should go back to that pub?"

"Say no more," laughed Fred, winking. "We'll leave you two lovebirds to whatever." The twins walked away, leaving Harry and Rhode standing upon cold pavement under streetlights' generic, artificial light. George's face was wreathed in shadows that concealed all but the swirling mist caused by the meeting of warm breath and cold evening air. Only he knew of the infant-storm of suspicion and uneasiness brewing within his brown eyes.


	9. Strangled

How had this happened?

Well, that was a stupid question. He did, after all, know exactly how it had happened.

The moonless sky offered precious little light, especially when compared to the light created by the inferno that raged much closer to home. Walls of heat and flame ensconced them from the outside world, their own personal slice of hell.

Although, those for whom this hell was most hellish were well beyond caring at that point. This now-decimated house's former residents had payed dearly for their foolishly violent reception of their nephew and his girlfriend. For the rifle the Uncle had aimed at them, for the saucepan and cutlery the Aunt had flung at them, and for the cousin's stupid, thuggish punches, each of the diligently discriminating Dursleys had lost their claim to life.

Who was he kidding? Rhode had never intended this to end any other way, and he…

Well, he had just stepped on the grotesque lump of flesh that was once Dudley's face without batting an eyelid whilst in the midst of a lesson on how to waltz without treading on his partner's toes. Did that not say enough?

"Rhode-sama, Harry-sama," called a shrill, feminine voice, and the fiery wall parted to allow entrance for a level 2 Akuma in the form of a young Japanese woman, the sole resident of Number Six Privet Drive, which was located next door to Number Four. She flung a bound man at the Noahs' feet. "I found him sleeping outside under a cloak of invisibility, Rhode-sama, Harry-sama. Can I kill him?"

The man had matted hair and was dressed in filthy rags. Drool dribbled from the corner of his open mouth, and great snorting snores permeated the surrounding air. The Noahs' superior senses detected alcohol on his breath, but a normal human would have been incapable of doing so due to the fact that this man did not seem to have bathed or showered within the past few weeks at least. The tip of a wand was sticking from his pocket. "If this is a Death Eater, Riddle has certainly lowered his standards of employment," Harry contemptuously commented. He reached down and tore the rags from the stranger's inner left forearm. The skin was filthy and agitated, peeling, but there was no sign of a dark mark. "No?" Harry mused. "Then why…"

"He could work for Dumbledore," said Rhode, twirling the man's wand between her fingers.

"Dumbledore? You mean, like a guard or watchman on Number Four? Come to think of it, how else would I be considered missing?" Harry's eyebrows rose. "Maybe you didn't need to use your door when you brought me home after all. We probably could have walked out the front door with no wizards any the wiser."

Rhode grinned. The man groaned, and rolled towards them in his sleep. She shrieked and leapt back. "Rhode?" concerned Harry inquired.

"Whatever… Just keep it away from me. It's dirty, disgusting, festering, and this is a new shirt."

The man's eyelids fluttered open. His blank expression morphed to one of confusion. When he discovered the ropes twining around his body like skinny but strong constrictor pythons, a dash of fear was added. "W-what?" he stammered.

"Who are you, and why are you here?" Harry said coldly. The man's thin lips compressed in a sure sign that he had no intention of talking. Rhode stepped forward and dug her fingernails into his face. He winced, but no sound escaped him. Rhode raked her fingernails further up his face, dangerously close to his left eye.

"Talk or lose an eye, filth," she told him, her gaze promising pain. "I mean it. I'm actually kinda hoping that you won't talk."

"M-Mundungus Fletcher," the man squeaked. "Who – no, what the hell are you?"

"None of your business. Why are you here?"

"I don't know. Where's 'here'?"

"Number Four Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, England, Planet Earth," said Harry dryly, a cold smile flickering.

"B-b-bloody hell," Fletcher stammered as his gaze took in their surroundings; rubble predominately plaster, three mutilated corpses, and the walls of solid flame.

"Why are you here?" Rhode repeated, a nail drawing blood less than a millimetre from his eye-socket. He whimpered.

"I-I'm watching this house. I-I wanted to catch a glimpse of the Boy Who Lived."

Harry sneered angrily. So even when he was considered a delusional attention-seeker, members of the public still could not resist stalking him? Rhode dug her fingers into Fletcher's left eye socket, wrenching the eyeball from its rightful place, and flung it to the ground where she stepped on it. His blood-curdling screams were cut off when she slapped him to gain his attention. "I know that you're lying," she sang. "Tell the truth, or lose the other one."

"I-I-I-I'm watching the house for D-Dumbledore," he whimpered. "I-in case Potter comes b-b-back."

"Kill him," Rhode ordered the Akuma. Fletcher was writhing in pain on the ground before Harry was able to counter the command. Pentacles formed upon the unfortunate wizard's flesh, marking the advent of the Akuma blood virus that rapidly decays living flesh. This virus, put into Fletcher's system by the Akuma's blood bullet, was irreversible. Harry rounded on Rhode.

"_Why?_" he snarled. "We could have let him go; it's not as though he knew who we are!"

"He hadn't figured it out _yet_," she said unconcernedly, rolling her eyes. "What does it matter, anyway? He's just another worthless human."

"I…" Harry cut himself off with a shake of his head. "Let's just go home," he sighed, his eyes sorrowful and troubled. He looked into Dudley's sightless, perpetually staring eyes, and frowned. "Did they really deserve this?" he muttered, more to himself than to Rhode.

"Of course they did," snorted Rhode. "Don't you remember how they treated you?"

"Of course I remember," he replied. "But still…"

"You're being stupid," she snapped, uncharacteristically serious. "Were you not such a powerful wizard, their 'care' would have killed you! Does being all but starved for three days ring any bells? What about the number of times you managed to escape the worst of Dudley's beatings only through accidental magic? What if he'd broken your neck or back, or fractured your skull? Would his parents have cared? Do you remember being shoved in front of a bus only to appear on the other side of the road, then being shouted at for freakishness?"

And then Harry had nothing to say, because he knew that everything Rhode had just told him was the truth. He smiled tentatively. "Sorry," he said quietly.

"Oh, Harry-kun," she said, grinning. "You don't ever have to apologise to me. I remember having doubts too, once. You won't have to deal with them forever."

"If you say so, Rhode. If you say so."

One of Rhode's tall, heart-shaped doors grew out of the ground, and then swung slowly open. Rhode skipped through the portal, smiling widely, and Harry followed more sedately, a pensive frown upon his face. The chequered door swung closed behind them, and then shrank back into the ground in the same instant that the fierce inferno disappeared. Ever-so-slowly remembering how to move again, the muggle fire-fighters dispersed, and the police moved in. It would be an hour before Arabella Figg of Number Nine awoke from heavy slumber and soon after sent a message to Albus Dumbledore informing him of all she learned to have passed.

A few days later, Harry, Rhode and Tyki were at King's Cross station in London. Allen, who had been rather distant ever since he heard of Harry and Rhode's little excursion to Privet Drive, had declined their invitation to come. "So, we just walk through the wall?" said Rhode, staring at the solid-looking bricks between Platforms 9 and 10.

"Yeah," Harry casually replied.

"Nothing too unusual, then," commented Tyki, smirking. Rhode giggled.

"For you, maybe," she told him, sticking out her tongue. Tyki's ability as a Noah involved choosing what he wanted to touch. For example, if a ball was flung at him, he could choose to let it hit him or pass through him, and if he was near a wall, he could choose to lean against it or to walk right through it as though a ghost. Harry smiled at the friendly banter even as a thin rope of pain knotted within him. He had not been parted from his family since discovering them, and now...

The three of them slipped through the barrier, unnoticed by the harried masses. The bricks rippled around them as though they were passing through water, revealing the reality of the occult illusion. Harry bit his lip as he scanned the crowd on platform 9 ¾, and Rhode wrapped her arms around him. "Are you sure about this?" she whispered. "You can just walk away from all these witches and wizards with their magic tricks and fancy wands, you know. There would be no need to look back; only forward…"

Harry shook his head. "I want to do this, Rhode," he said quietly but decisively. He glanced up at Tyki, who stood with a cigarette dangling from his mouth. Smoke drifted up from the tip, and then stowed away on a soft breeze. He smiled at them, and took the handle of the trolley on which Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage, complete with owl, were stacked. "Good luck, little brother," he murmured affectionately. Harry's eyes gleamed.

"Thank you, older brother."

"There's the Weasleys," muttered Rhode, and Harry ducked out of sight behind Tyki, beckoning Rhode to follow him.

"I don't feel like being crowded away from you guys just yet," he announced by way of explanation. "I guess I should find a compartment, then," he sighed. They turned right, putting the long red Hogwarts Express between them and the sizeable family of redheads, Tyki dragging the trunk. Tyki's expensive clothing combined with Harry's (in)famous status drew much attention, but neither they nor Rhode returned any of it with attention of their own.

Harry ended up joining Neville Longbottom, fellow Gryffindor fifth year, and a dreamy-looking blonde wearing radishes for earrings and reading an upside-down magazine called _The Quibbler_ featuring a badly-drawn caricature of the Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge on the cover. Neville seemed relieved to see him. That probably had something to do with the unnerved looks he kept giving the blonde and her distinct aura of eccentricity. "You're Harry Potter," she announced, studying him.

"I know I am," said Harry, his lips twitching, and Neville let out a snort of laughter. "But I don't know who you are."

"Luna Lovegood. Did you see the blibbering humdingers on the way here?"

"Ah, no, I can't say I did," Harry told her, forehead wrinkling as he tried to remember what a blibbering humdinger was.

"Ginny was in here earlier," commented Neville. "She was looking for you, Harry. She said something about you disappearing into muggle London with a deranged psychopath."

Harry smirked. "I'm sure Rhode would be delighted at that description."

"Who's Rhode?"

"She's my girlfriend."

Ginny chose that moment to stride, scowling, through the compartment doors. Her scowl transfigured into a snarl the moment her gaze met Harry's. "Where did you go?!" she shrieked, and Harry winced at the assault on his eardrums. "You disappeared without a trace _again_, and for what? Do you have any idea how worried, how stressed, Mum has been?!"

"Ginny –"

"Don't. Just don't. I suppose your whore of a girlfriend is more important – ugh." The ranting redhead was cut off by Harry's hand at her throat, pinning her against the compartment's smooth leather upholstery. He leaned over her, and his expression caused her to attempt to shrink back into the seat as fear stopped her breath. A dangerous gleam was in his eyes, quite unlike anything she had ever before seen there, and a cruel, sadistic smile threatened to turn into a demented grin. He leaned down to whisper into her ear.

"I really don't think you should have said that, Ginevra." His hand tightened around her throat, choking her, and for a moment the shadows seemed darker over his skin, and she thought twin glints of gold appeared in his eyes. The surface trembled beneath her as the train began to move. Neville was shouting to stop, but neither of them really heard him. Her neck hurt…

And Harry was knocked away by a beam of light from Neville's wand. She laid sobbing and gasping for air, and then Neville was pulling her trembling form into protective arms. He murmured consolations, and she thought that he had never before seemed so chivalrous and bold, or so handsome. He was like a knight – a wonderful knight from a fairy tale. It did not occur to her that it was usually Harry that she thought of in such a manner.

Neville frowned over the marks on her neck. More than fingermarks, they looked a little like… burns? He turned to glare at Harry, who was kneeling on the floor, having pulled himself up into a more upright position than that in which he had fallen. "Maybe Ginny shouldn't have said that, but that doesn't excuse your actions!" he snarled. Harry stayed silent, avoiding his classmate's gaze. Ginny stirred as some of her Gryffindor bravery returned.

"Get lost!" she snapped at Harry. "Go back to that psychopath and welcome! It seems that the two of you are a much better match than I ever would have thought!"

"Yes," Harry murmured in reply, his gaze firmly fixated on the threadbare beige carpet. "Me and Rhode… Well, she understands me, and accepts me. I am very fond of her. But… Neville's right. I overreacted. I'm sorry." Without waiting for a reply, he moved fluidly to his feet, and prowled moodily out of the compartment, closing the door gently behind him. Unseen and unheard by him, Luna stared at the burns on Ginny's neck with uncharacteristic seriousness and sharpness.

"This Rhode. Did you catch her surname?"

"Yeah, it was Kamelot. Why?"

"Oh, no reason." Her fists clenched, crushing the glossy pages of _The Quibbler._


	10. Machine

"Harry!"

"Hermione, Ron. Where have you been?"

"Prefect meeting. We've both been made Prefects, you know."

"Oh, really? Congratulations."

"Where have _you_ been? You just disappeared from the Leaky Cauldron…"

"I've been at home."

"You went back to the Dursleys?"

"That place was never my home, Ron."

"You're really pale, Harry. Did something happen?"

Harry sighed. "You could say that. Umm… I'm sure Ginny'll tell you all about it…"

"Does it have something to do with Rhode?" interrupted Hermione, knowingly. Ron looked at her strangely.

"What gives you that idea?" he asked, clueless.

"_Boys_," Hermione exasperatedly sighed. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Not really," said Harry. "You don't even know what happened."

"She's jealous," Hermione continued as though he had not said anything.

"Huh?" grunted Ron, still clueless. Harry, however, widened his eyes in sudden understanding.

"So _that's_ why… I see. I… somehow don't think she's jealous anymore. She probably hates me."

Now it was Hermione's turn to look confused, if only for a few seconds. Disapproving and exasperated, she asked him, "What did you say to her, Harry?"

"It's not so much what I said as what I did," he murmured in reply. "You… should probably go to her. She is your sister after all, Ron. Siblings should look out for each other, right?" There was something oddly thoughtful about his tone as he spoke that last sentence.

"You should come too," Hermione all but commanded. "It'll give you a chance to apologise. What _did_ happen?"

"Ginny insulted Rhode and I lost my temper. That's really all there is to it. And I've already apologised."

He left them without another word, seemingly deaf to Hermione's protests as he stalked down the corridor. _This is much harder than I anticipated. Everything seems so different, but I know it isn't. It must be me. Have I really changed that much? _He wished that everyone would stop staring at him. If fame was a nuisance, then infamy was a real pain. A small crowd drifted after him, curious and brazen, collecting ever more members as they moved. Their mutters seemed to grate on his ears.

"What's this? Don't you people have anything better to do than wander aimlessly?" It was Ernie Macmillan, his chest puffed out so that his Prefect badge was clearly visible. "Go back to your compartments before I start handing out detentions!" He winked at Harry. The crowd dispersed. A few lingered, obviously reluctant to leave, but Harry glared at them, and something in his gaze caused them to shrug, falsely nonchalant, and obediently retreat. Harry turned back to Ernie and raised his eyebrows.

"Does this mean you believe me?"

"Yes. I… was wrong about you in second year, when the Chamber of Secrets was opened, and… well, I'm not one to repeat my mistakes. So, I believe you, Potter… Harry."

Harry smiled tentatively. "Thank you."

"Where're Ron and Hermione, anyway? The Prefect meeting's over, so… Aren't you guys normally inseparable?"

Harry chuckled mirthlessly. "I suppose we are, aren't we?" He offered no further explanation, and Ernie studied him closely, thoughtfully.

"Do you want to sit with us Hufflepuffs?"

"Alright," Harry replied. He was not particularly fond of the idea of wandering the corridor until they reached Hogwarts, after all. So it was that he found himself sitting in between Ernie and Susan Bones, with Hannah Abbott and Justin Finch-Fletchery seated opposite. Conversation was infrequent and awkward, but they were all very nice and courteous. A thought occurred to Harry.

"Do you, by any chance, have a relative called Sara Bones, Susan?" he asked the shy redhead at his side.

"Um, I'm not sure. It sounds familiar… That's right! She's a cousin, but she never went to Hogwarts because she's a squib. I think she's a waitress or something. Have you met her?"

"No, I haven't. But a friend mentioned her…"

"Oh, really? Who was it? Ron Weasley? Hermione Granger?"

"Neither. It's… someone you wouldn't know."

Later, as he left the train, he looked up at the star-dotted sky and breathed deeply of unusually warm night air. He glanced in the direction of the Forbidden Forest, and thought that the dark silhouettes of that mass of trees looked to have something of that wild darkness he had identified in the Black Forest. It appealed to him in a way it never had before. Was that a sign that he was destined to dwell in darkness? He felt suddenly sure that, should the Earl win the war, only that would be left. But would that really be so bad?

And then Hermione was at his side, frowning. "Ron isn't very happy with you."

"I don't blame him. What about you?"

Hermione laughed dryly. "I… What's happened to you, Harry? You… I'm not entirely sure what it is, but you seem… different, darker. Rhode… She seemed the same. It's… unnerving. What's happened to you, Harry?"

Harry stayed silent for several seconds, staring into Hermione's eyes, gauging how much to tell her. "A lot has changed, my friend," he eventually replied, his tone unusually gentle to the point of being almost hypnotic. "I have a family now."

"A family? Whatever do you mean? Aren't the Dursleys…?"

"No, never. They w- are regrettable relatives. No, I have a _real_ family now; a family that cares whether I live or die."

"I… see," said Hermione. "Or at least, I'm trying to. By the way, Ginny made us all promise not to tell anyone what happened. She said she didn't want it beaten up by the rumour mill."

Harry started when he saw the horseless carriages that were to transport them to the castle, because the carriages weren't horseless anymore. Instead, they were been drawn by skeletal black horses with great, bat-like wings and pale, forward-facing eyes such as would be seen on the corpse of a carnivore. In short, Rhode would undoubtedly love them. "What are they, Hermione?" he asked, awed in spite of himself.

"What are what?" she asked, puzzled.

"Those… horse-things pulling the carriages."

Hermione gave him a strange, concerned look. "There's nothing pulling the carriages, Harry. They're horseless, just like every other year."

Harry caught himself before protesting. "Yeah, you're right," he said convincingly. "It's a trick of the light. I'm just tired, y'know?" _But it's not, they're definitely there. Can I only see them because I've awakened as a Noah? Or is it something else?_ When Hermione had entered the carriage, he reached out cautiously to stroke the creature's flank. It was corpse-cold but solid, definitely without-a-doubt solid. Yep, it was definitely there. Both creature and carriage started to move, and Harry had to make a running jump through the door that Hermione opened for him.

Inside, Harry was greeted by a savage glare from Ron and a penetrating stare from Luna. Neither Ginny nor Neville would meet his gaze, and even Hermione seemed uncomfortable. After several minutes of tense silence that, thanks to Ron, threatened to explode with all the force of Mt. Vesuvius on Pompeii's last day, they scrambled out of the carriage. That was no reprieve from stares, of course… tch, how annoying.

"Harry Potter!" called Professor McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher, over many heads of chattering students. "The Headmaster wishes to speak with you." More stares. _Wonderful_.

Professor McGonagall escorted him to the animated gargoyles that guarded Professor Dumbledore's office. After she spoke the password (blood pop [Harry raised his eyebrows and wondered]), they were admitted to the stone staircase that moved just as though a muggle escalator. Beyond the door at the top, Dumbledore's desk was just as cluttered with odd, unidentifiable artefacts as ever, and the many portraits of former Hogwarts Headmasters that lined the walls muttered to each other upon their entrance. Professor McGonagall departed, but not without looking at him with a strange expression.

Dumbledore sat behind the desk, solemn and tired. "Sit down, Harry," he said quietly. "Would you like some cockroach cluster?" And he offered a handful of odd-looking black sweets.

"Er, no thanks, Professor," Harry replied. "Is there a reason you called me here?"

"Ah, yes." The solemnity of his expression trebled. "I'm so sorry, Harry, but the Dursleys… They're dead."

Harry blinked. In wake of the events on the train, he had all but forgotten about that. "Huh? No way… What happened?" His voice was dull, monotonous. _How much do you know?_

"I'm not sure. There was a fire that couldn't be put out, and vanished suddenly as though it was never there, if it weren't for the ashes and the house's charred remains. They found them inside. I'm so sorry, Harry."

Harry nodded, ducking his head to hide his expression. "Was anyone else harmed?"

"Not that we know of."

Harry once again nodded. Fletcher's body had disintegrated, so he was most likely considered missing or a victim of the fire. _Of course Dumbledore wouldn't want me to know about my minders._ They sat in silence for quite some time. Harry nibbled at a few offered sandwiches and lost himself in his thoughts.

"May I go now, Professor?" he eventually asked, voice husky to disguise his lack of grief.

"Of course."

The empty halls were dark, silent and soothing. No one was here to stare… Harry gave a small sigh of pleasure and rested his head against the cold stone wall. So peaceful…

"Potter?" It was Professor McGonagall. That strange expression had returned, and this time Harry recognised it as pity.

"I'm fine," he muttered agitatedly, and hurried away, never pausing until he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. She was snoring, her dark curls mused and her double chin resting against the pink fabric of her Victorian gown. Harry cleared his throat loudly. The portrait jerked awake with a glare and much grumbling.

"Password?" she finally asked after finishing her quiet rant. Harry blinked.

"I-I don't know…"

The Lady commenced irritable muttering over wasted time. Harry scowled and resisted the urge to place his hand on the portrait and burn right through it. Right now, Tyki's ability would be very useful… although, come to think of it, phasing through the canvas would not be any less conspicuous than burning a hole in it. If only Rhode was here… She was telepathic, right? Rolling his eyes at the once-again snoozing portrait, he turned on his heel and strode away, the hem of his cloak fluttering with the movement.

Unbidden his feet took him to the dungeons where a dark presence caught his attention. He shoved the hidden door open and entered the snug chambers, fully confident in his right to do so. Green and silver décor – Slytherin colours – greeted his gaze.

"Who are you?" he asked the watchful Akuma that wore the skin of Severus Snape.

"Potter!" the disguised machine (for that is what the Akuma are) spat. "Twenty points from Gryffindor! What gives you the right…"

Harry gave a chilling laugh that would have made Lord Voldemort proud. The appearance of a Noah swept over his form, and the Akuma gasped, its jaw dropping. "I ask once again. Who are you, Akuma?"

"I-I'm sorry, Master Noah. I didn't know –"

"Who are you?" Harry repeated coldly. "Who did Snape seek to revive from the dead?"

"Lily Evans, Lord Noah."

Harry's eyes widened and dread coiled in his stomach as though a cobra prepared to strike. "Lily Evans? My… Mother?"

The Akuma blinked and tilted her head to the side. "Am I? I can't quite remember… Master Noah."

Talking to a Level 2 Akuma was, Harry thought, both very different and very similar to conversing with a Level 1. "My Mother," he whispered, almost tasting the words. Seeing Cedric had seemed at the time quite a shock, but in no way had it prepared him for something as significant as this. A small noise of comprehension came from his Potions teacher.

"That's right," he – no, she – mumbled. "I think… I remember now. Yes… how could I have forgotten? That baby I gave my life to save… memories unbefitting an Akuma who has killed as many as I. That's why I forgot. I first went out with James Potter in our seventh year, but before that I thought I despised him. When I evolved I chose to devote my remembrances to then. For that reason I acted as I did towards you, the very image of James, and for disguise I played the biased Head of House. Forgive me, Master Noah."

The latter sentence caused Harry to recall the reality of this situation. "Maintain the act in public that suspicions may remain unaroused," he commanded, and something died in his eyes.


	11. Visitation

"Off strangling more girls last night, Potter?" a red-eared Ron hissed when he cornered Harry in a corridor the next morning. Harry fidgeted irritably. The events of last night were fresh in his mind and he _really_ did not feel like dealing with this. He said as much in a biting, sarcastic tone, and the intensity of Ron's glare increased. "You sound just like a Slytherin," the redhead snapped, obviously meaning to insult him.

"So what?" said Harry, and rolled his eyes. "The Dursleys are dead, Ron." If he was going to be accused of Slytherin tendencies, he may as well utilise them.

Ron stumbled back, the blood rushing from his ears, his righteous anger drained by that one move. "F-for real?"

"For real," Harry confirmed, and he did not even have to fake his confused grief, for thoughts of Lily refused to leave him be. "So I'm not joking when I say I don't need this."

Ron was silent.

"Say, what's the password? Dumbledore forgot to tell me…"

"It's _Mimbulus mimbletonia_."

And Harry knew that he was, for the moment at least, forgiven. Or at least, partially forgiven, he realised when Ron hurried away from him at the door to the Great Hall, seating himself at his sister's side. Ginny turned to stare, and then beckoned him towards her. "Is it true?" she whispered. "The Dursleys… are dead?"

Harry nodded. "Why didn't you say anything?" Ginny asked. Harry shrugged and helped himself to a slice of toast. "I don't think I could cope with losing my family," she told him quietly, poking at her plate of scrambled eggs without eating any. He did not reply. Neville was also told the news when he strode over minutes later. Later, the three Gryffindor boys left for Charms together.

"Does anyone know how Gryffindor got negative points this early in the year?" asked Hermione after smiling at the sight of Harry and Ron side by side. Ron stared at her with horror, Neville's eyes widened, and Harry winced. He had forgotten to tell Lily to give back the points she had taken…

"Harry?"

"No idea," he lied smoothly. Hermione gave him a penetrating stare.

"I'm glad you two are talking again," she beamed at Harry and Ron. Her expression became horrified when she was informed of the latest news on Harry's relatives.

"Oh my God…"

It seemed, Harry reflected, that the Dursleys were more useful dead than they were alive. The worst of the consequences of his actions had been swept away in the wake of their involuntary sacrifice. He felt only slightly guilty over the deception of his friends, and he did not realise that he would have felt much more so before the events of the previous night.

The rest of the day passed through a dreamlike haze that left him melancholy, almost numb. He hardly noticed the stares and whispers that were by no means any less frequent than they had been on the train. That evening he sat alone by the vast lake, staring into the water. There was a whole other world beneath the surface…

"Harry-kun!" Rhode shrieked, flinging her arms around him. "How's school so far?"

"What are you doing here?" asked Harry exasperatedly, narrowing his eyes at the heart-shaped door he could only just make out, concealed as it was by a snug glade of trees.

"Do I need a reason to visit members of my beloved family?" Pause. "I've got a geography quiz due tomorrow. Help me?"

Harry chuckled wryly and nodded. Trust a visit from Rhode to raise his spirits, to remind him that, however it may seem at Hogwarts, he was not alone. He took a ballpoint pen and an A4 sheet of geography questions. He frowned as his green eyes followed the straight lines of text. "Um, I _think_ Budapest is the capital of Romania. Or is it Hungary? Or it could be Moldavia… hmmm."

"Romania, I think," said Rhode, skimming earnestly through an old, tattered, bulky atlas. "Romania, Romania, where are you Ro-ma-ni-a. Uh-HUH. Romania's capital is… Bucharest." As one, the two messy-haired teenagers groaned. They stared startled at each other, and then Rhode broke into a fit of laughter. Harry followed suit not long after.

"Hem-hem," coughed a fluttery feminine voice, and both turned to stare at the short, pink-cardigan-clad woman whose features recalled something of the toad. "I don't recall seeing you at the start-of-term feast, Mr Potter," she simpered unpleasantly. Harry raised his eyebrows.

"That makes sense. I don't recall been there. Are you the new Defence teacher, Madam?" It certainly could not hurt to be polite, after all. Or maybe it could, if the woman's sour expression was anything to go by.

"Yes, I'm Professor Umbridge. What urgent matter kept you from attending the feast, Mr Potter?"

"Nothing of my choosing I assure you. I was been informed of my relatives' deaths."

The woman's expression soured still further, granting her appearance all the more resemblance to a toad. "I… see. And who might you be, Miss…?"

"Kamelot, Rhode Kamelot," the girl replied, her gaze sardonic as she ran her tongue across her lips.

"I don't recall seeing your name on the school register, Miss Kamelot."

"That makes sense. I don't recall registering my name there."

A smile that was even more unpleasant than her previous sour expression appeared on Professor Umbridge's pale face. "Are you aware that barging in here without permission is illegal trespassing? I shall have to ask you to leave at once."

"As you wish," said Rhode, curtseying mockingly. She skipped away without waiting for a reply, humming a somewhat creepy melody. Harry coughed and Umbridge turned, allowing Rhode to step unobserved through her door which vanished shortly thereafter. The toad-like woman's nostrils flared as the very sight of Harry seemed to fill her with anger. When she discovered that Rhode had disappeared, she rounded on him with a sickly-sweet smile.

"Detention, Mr Potter."

"W-what? Why?"

She clicked her tongue. "Students of this _prestigious_ school should know better than to dally around the grounds with members of the opposite sex who have absolutely no right to be here, Mr Potter. Don't think that stories of addled brains will get you out of this one."

"What the _hell?_"

"Language, Mr Potter. Clearly you are a delinquent. Detention in my office 5 o'clock sharp every evening for a week. You may start tomorrow."

Harry bit his tongue. _Did this woman get her sanity from the rear end of a bat?_ He fled as soon as she dismissed him, sincerely regretful that he had double Defence Against the Dark Arts tomorrow. Well, at least he had been spared both Defence and Potions today…

Wide blue eyes gleamed unseen beneath an Invisibility Cloak. The moment both Harry and Umbridge were out of sight, a fourth-year with long, dirty-blonde hair slithered into visibility. As she folded the cloak and placed it carefully in the small backpack by her side, she muttered, "So that's Rhode Kamelot. And it seems that, far worse than an Akuma, Harry Potter's part of her 'beloved family.'"

In the common room that night, Harry strode up to a furiously-writing Hermione with Hedwig on his shoulder. "Ne, Hermione? What country's Budapest the capital of?"

"Hungary. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason." He nabbed a roll of parchment from Seamus Finnigan, much to his peer's consternation, and scribbled down a few words before attaching it to Hedwig's leg and shoving aside the Fat Lady to allow for his owl's exit.

"Harry!" called Angelina Johnson, an attractive seventh-year. "I'm the new Gryffindor Quidditch team Captain." The previous Captain, Oliver Wood, had graduated the year before last, and last year the Triwizard tournament had shuffled Harry's favourite sport out of the schedule.

"Congratulations!" said Harry, grinning tiredly.

"So, I've scheduled try-outs for the Keeper position for 5 o'clock on Friday…"

"Er, Angelina," Harry timidly interrupted. "I kinda… havedetentionthen."

"Um, I didn't quite catch that."

"I said" Here, Harry took a deep breath. "I have detention at 5 o'clock on Friday." _Now to see if becoming Captain has made her anything like Wood…_

"You WHAT?!" she roared, and Harry winced. Evidently, been made Captain had caused her to become _worse_ than Wood. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she continued, quietly but dangerously, "Did you just say that you've decided to get detention instead of coming to the try-outs?"

"I didn't _decide_ anything," he replied indignantly. "It's not my fault Professor Umbridge is a lady of remarkably dubious sanity."

Several observers (mostly those who had already been to one of Umbridge's classes) gave amused snorts, both involuntary and otherwise. Even Angelina chuckled for a moment before her composure returned along with a more poignant version of her previous scowl. "I don't care if you have to beg, grovel, apologise profusely or whatever, but you will be there on Friday, Potter." She turned and stormed up the staircase to the girls dorms.

Harry felt a momentary rage at the thought of grovelling to a normal human. He glared after Angelina, furious that she would suggest such a thing. Maybe he could…

"Harry?" said Hermione timidly, and he turned to see her looking at him… fearfully? He instantly schooled his expression into something gentle and reassuring, but she did not seem entirely appeased. He looked away, ashamed. How could he have even thought of killing Angelina? Surely what she had said did not deserve the death penalty, even if she had meant to insult him. And did it not make him incredibly arrogant, that he seemed to think himself above other humans? But then again, he was better than them, was he not? He was one of the Clan of Noah, and normal humans were so weak.

With murmured goodnights he trudged up to his dorm where he knelt down to rummage through his trunk. After extracting his Invisibility Cloak, he draped it over himself and closed the curtains around his bed before sneaking out.

He felt like paying a visit to his Mother.

She was hovering over a cauldron, skin sallow and hair greasy on this ugly skin she wore. "Tell me about your human life," he commanded, and she did.

She and Petunia had gotten along splendidly once upon a time, before they ever thought of witches or magic. Then Severus Snape had appeared, with extraordinary tales of a school in a great castle that taught just those things to a special few – like him and Lily. Indeed the letters had come, for them but not for Petunia. That was when the sisters' relationship really started to sour, for Petunia had been refused entry to Hogwarts even when she wrote a request to the Headmaster.

That startled Harry. His horrible, magic-hating Aunt had wanted to go to Hogwarts?

Lily and Severus had remained friends even when they were sorted into Gryffindor and Slytherin respectively. Lily's best friend was loathed among her housemates, but she always defended him. Then, in fifth year, when he was taunted by James Potter for Lily's defence of him, he had lashed out in embarrassment and called her a Mudblood. She had not been able to forgive him for that.

In seventh year her parents had been murdered by Death Eaters, further widening the rift between her and both Petunia and Severus who had many Voldemort-supporting friends, and was himself a sometime supporter. She had begun dating James, and soon found herself falling hard for him. They had married shortly after graduation, and their beloved son was born barely nine months later.

And then Harry learned the reason his parents had been targeted by Voldemort. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he found out the reason he, their son, was targeted. A prophecy had been made that named him as the Dark Lord's only possible downfall, for he had 'the power the Dark Lord knew not'. Maybe that meant his Noah powers?

How dare Dumbledore keep this from him, who of all people had the most right to know?

"And no one else fits the prophecy's criteria?"

"There was one other – Neville Longbottom."

"Then… it might not be me. It might be Neville."

"I believe subsequent events have made it quite clear that you are the Chosen One, Harry-sama."

Harry did not think he would ever become entirely accustomed to been called that by his own Mother. Nonetheless, he took his leave and later lay awake on his four-poster bed, mind abuzz with thoughts of prophecies and war.


	12. Informant

"Good evening."

"Good evening to you too, Millennium Earl," replied Harry, pivoting to face the owner of that unmistakable voice. A small smile replaced his previous frown.

Today had not been all that enjoyable. The first class had been Potions, to which he arrived late due to the enormous amount of homework that he had rushed to get done that morning, having forgotten about it the previous night. Needless to say, his first meal that day was a small lunch he gulped down before rushing through another pile of homework. Potions had been highly unpleasant, with the Professor belittling him just as much as usual. He knew that she was only following his orders, and to perfection at that, but it was nevertheless painful to receive that treatment from one he now knew to be his Mother.

After Potions, he had been forced to suffer through double Defence Against the Dark Arts, which was taught in an even more pathetic manner than he had suspected it would. Umbridge forced them to read continuously from an incredibly dull, prejudiced book, as well as verbally crushing any hopes that any practical Defence would be taught _at all_ this year. She also made several pointed comments strongly implying the _non_-resurrection of a certain supposed Dark Lord that Harry had only barely managed to keep himself from replying hotly to. It had been worth it, though, to see the growing frustration on the toad's face as she failed to visibly inflame his temper. Oh, if only she had been able to see the various tortures he was all the while dreaming up for her.

The rest of the day had been both dull and, what with the rapidly increasing homework load, stressful. Divination at least had been a source of amusement, with Professor Trelawny predicting his painful death for the umpteenth time. Irony in his eyes, he responded in a way he never had before; 'predicting' her horrific death in grotesque detail. In the end, the unnerved teacher dismissed the class with a sigh of relief, and his classmates scooted away from him; yet another source of amusement.

Ron and Neville, however, both grew steadily more distant from him as the initial shock of the Dursleys' deaths wore off. By the end of the day, their coldness was palpable and Harry knew that he was far from forgiven.

And then there was Umbridge's detention, which left him torn between amusement and anger. He wrote lines with a very special quill that did not require ink due to the fact that it used his blood instead, carving the words he wrote into his palm. The cuts healed completely and immediately, and would continue doing so until he willed it otherwise, whatever Umbridge thought. One day he would break all the bones in her feet and force her to write with the quill until parts of her hand began to fall off, but for now he would play her game. The way he smiled and even chuckled as he was forced to slice open his own hand certainly unnerved the toad at the very least, just as he had intended it to.

But after all, any pain that could be inflicted on him was only temporary. It was a dent on his pride to bow to the sadistic whims of this human, and he would never forgive her. Revenge would wait, however… best not to do anything to jeopardise the Earl's scenario.

And now he stood before the Earl in an empty corridor. The setting sun could be seen through the window, and some of its golden glow leant warmth to the castle's cold grey stones. He had just left the toad's detention, and flexed his hand unconsciously as he waited politely for the Earl's next words.

"A General of the Black Order plans to pass through Hogsmeade tomorrow morning. I want you, Lulubell and the akuma stationed throughout the town to intercept and assassinate her, and to destroy all of the Innocences with her."

Harry's lips curled and an excited, anticipatory glint entered his eyes. "Lulubell?" he murmured, wondering how and when the Lust of the Noah would arrive. A black cat trotted out from behind the Earl. It had yellow eyes and a single stigma on its forehead… "Is that you, Lulubell?" The cat nodded.

"She will stay here with you until after the mission," the Earl informed him, and then reached out to pat him on the head. "How are you managing school, Harry-pon?" (AN: Pon translates to pet.)

Harry choked. "Why are you calling me that, Earl?" he whined. "It's so undignified." His face reddened when he realised how similar his words were to those used by Tyki whilst complaining of the same addition to his own name. _He never stopped for Tyki, so I doubt he'll stop for me either. _The Earl chuckled and looked at him expectantly.

"It's fine," Harry offered. "But I want to torture the Defence teacher."

"Patience, Harry-pon," said the Earl, and Harry groaned at the confirmation that he would not be escaping the pet-name. "You'll get your chance soon enough." Harry brightened.

"Really?" he said in a childish tone. "If anyone else eliminates her first I'll get angry, you know. I have plans for her."

"Yes, yes," chortled the Earl, patting his head once again. "I'll make sure the others and the akuma know not to touch her." The speaker stepped out a large, open window whilst unfurling his umbrella (actually Relo). Harry and Lulubell stood watching as he drifted away Mary Poppins-style. Then Harry stared down, somewhat awkwardly, at the cat weaving between his legs and purring.

"Will you be staying in Gryffindor Tower, then?"

She gave him a look that screamed, _Well, obviously. Where else do you think I'll stay?_

"There's no need to be like that. I was just asking a simple question… puss."

She hissed angrily and dug her claws into his calf.

"Owwww. I'm sorry, Lulubell! I'm sorry!"

She sniffed and stuck up her nose. Harry expended a great deal of effort to the task of maintaining a straight face, and then pivoted when he heard a woman laugh behind him. He took a startled step back when he saw Madam Pomfrey barely a meter away. How had she come so close without him noticing? "It's been a long time, Lulubell-sama."

"You're not an akuma!" Harry blurted, his eyes swimming with confusion. The matron laughed.

"Well, of course not. I'm a broker."

Harry frowned, no less confused. 'Broker' meant something to do with business, right? What did that have to do with how Madam Pomfrey knew Lulubell, or why she deferred to her? Lulubell glanced left then right, somewhat shiftily, and Madam Pomfrey narrowed her eyes before drawing her wand and casting a privacy ward. "No one will interrupt us," she said. Lulubell's form transitioned smoothly from a cat to an elegant blonde woman.

"Master does not automatically know where an akuma is ready to be born," she told him. "That's why he has brokers. They stay watchful for potential akuma, and sell him the information when they gain it."

"So… they're like spies, informants." _Traitors to their own._ An image of Peter Pettigrew, the man who had sold out his parents to Voldemort, flashed before his eyes, and he swayed as nausea struck him. He turned away so that he would not have to look Pomfrey in the eye. If not for the irrefutable evidence right before his eyes, he never would have suspected her of such a thing. She had always seemed so… caring and motherly. He glanced at Lulubell and saw that she was giving him a thoughtful, penetrating look.

"Leave, Poppy," she murmured, and the matron obeyed. She then told Harry, "Like them or not, the brokers are necessary components of our campaign. Don't let your feelings towards them jeopardise any of Master's plans."

"I wouldn't do that!" he assured her, mock indignant, and smiled. He had glimpsed a spark of compassion in her eyes when she spoke; it may have been miniscule, but it had been there. She had come as close to been comforting as he suspected she ever would, and he was grateful.

Harry attracted many curious looks when he strode into the Gryffindor common room with a sleek black feline perched upon his shoulder. "What a beautiful cat," Ginny gushed in spite of herself. Harry laughed when Lulubell purred and preened herself in reply. "That's an unusual mark on its forehead, though." And she beckoned Hermione over to take a look.

"It's a scar, a cross-shaped scar," Hermione announced after examining it. "I've never seen anything like it." She appeared vexed by that reluctant admission. Lulubell hissed and batted at Hermione with a paw when she attempted to take a closer look.

"An unusual scar," Harry mused ironically. "I guess we'll make quite a pair, then, for as long as she hangs around."

Most of the audience lost interest after that, much to Harry's relief. Was it a sign of paranoia that he got a bad feeling from all of the attention on his sister and the scar that marked her as a Noah? Why did she have it, anyway? She could take any form she chose; it would be a simple matter for her to appear a completely average cat with no distinguishing features.

Lulubell lazed by the fire, appropriately cat-like, as Harry trudged his reluctant way through a potions essay. He had double Potions tomorrow morning, when he was to ambush the General. He almost winced before he remembered that Professor Snape was an akuma, and would therefore cover for him if he only told him to. He then recalled Snape's true identity, and winced anyway.

An angry cat-growl interrupted him, and he quickly looked to see what was wrong with the other Noah. But it wasn't Lulubell. Hermione's Crookshanks, it seemed, had returned from a hunting expedition and taken an immediate dislike to his disguised sibling. Given Crookshanks' history as a reliable identifier of untrustworthy animagi, this could get awkward.

"Crookshanks?" said Hermione. "What's the matter?"

Crookshanks hissed and swiped at Lulubell, who took a flying leap into Harry's lap before the claws made contact. Harry immediately stood up with Lulubell clutched in his protective arms, glaring down at the ginger tom. Ron looked up from his own homework to give them a wary look. "Are you sure that's a real cat?" he asked with narrow eyes. Harry supposed his suspicion was understandable, as Crookshanks had only ever been this antagonistic towards his former rat, Death Eater animagus Peter Pettigrew.

"Of course," Harry lied smoothly. A mischievous glint entered his eyes, and he continued, "Trust me; she definitely behaves more like a cat than a human." He smirked down at her, hoping that he would not get scratched for his troubles.

She purred, and he blinked. Did she take that as a compliment?

"Maybe we should cast an animagus counter-spell, just in case?" suggested Hermione, biting her lip.

Harry frowned. Lulubell was not an animagus, so the spell probably would not work, right? But even were that so, he did not know how she would react to having a spell aimed at her. He shook his head as another lie occurred to him. "There's no need for that – I've already cast it." He laughed. "I'm getting real paranoid, don't you think? But no matter... she's nothing more than a cat who's taken a liking to me." He glanced sidelong at Hermione and, hidden by Lulubell, crossed his fingers.

Hermione's glare was filled with suspicion. "Since when do you know the animagus counter-spell?"

Harry's face contorted with silent vexation before he regained his cheerful mask. There were times when it was great having a genius as one of his best friends, but this was not one of them. "Secret," he teased playfully. Hermione's eyebrows rose – she had seen his mask's slip. Apparently relenting, he leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "Don't tell anyone, but it seems that the Ministry can't track underage magic to my new home." He sidled away to his dormitory, ignoring Hermione's outraged gasp and making a mental note to learn the animagus counter-spell before his knowledge-hungry friend demanded a demonstration.


	13. Experiment Not

AN: I apologise for the lengthy hiatus and return with another chapter of A Noah at Hogwarts. Um, maybe that last bit should be referred to the Department of Redundancy Department. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter. As always, thank you lovely reviewers.

Goldenfightergirl and anyone who might be asking the same question: The way I see it, what came out of Voldemort's wand when he dueled with Harry was echos and shadows of souls and not the souls themselves. Therefore, the echo could emerge from Voldie's wand while Lily's true soul existed within the akuma wearing Severus's skin.

* * *

"Potter!" snarled Snape. "I knew that you were incompetent but to botch such a simple potion..." His eyes flashed with fury, and the fifth-year Gryffindors, even those who believed that Potter was an insane attention-seeker, winced with sympathy while their Slytherin counterparts smirked and sniggered. "Get out of my sight, now! And if I hear you've been anywhere but the hospital wing, you'll be scrubbing out cauldrons for the rest of your school career!"

Covered with painful-looking boils, Harry hurried from the dungeon. Snape winked as he passed, and slipped him a crystal bottle containing the antidote. Lily Potter knew very well that she would hear nothing of her son's disobedience from Madam Pomfrey the broker.

A sleek black cat leapt onto his shoulder as he slammed the door behind him. He quickly downed the potion and then extracted his Invisibility Cloak from his book bag. Hidden from sight, two members of the Noah clan made their way to the outskirts of Hogsmeade to meet with an Exorcist General.

She was a pretty Chinese girl with bright eyes, shoulder-length hair and a short skirt. Very pretty... he wondered if Rhode would have liked to play dress-up with her. Had she not been marked for death, perhaps he would have presented her as a gift to the eldest Noah. He raised his eyebrows when Lulubell transformed into a Finder, one of the white-robed people who assisted the Exorcists as best they could. Nonetheless, he obediently trailed behind her when she gestured for him to do so.

"Victoria!" exclaimed one of the Finders. "We wondered where you'd... Who's this?"

Lulubell did not reply, merely looked at them through scraggly red locks. They exchanged uneasy looks, and Harry fidgeted. What on Earth was she planning?

"Hey! Victoria? What..."

The speaker stopped then, falling to the ground where he writhed in agony, black pentacles marring his flesh and spreading until his body dissolved, consumed by the akuma blood virus. "No!" cried the General, pale beneath her olive complexion, and Harry rolled his eyes. Thus far, she was not as impressive as he had expected. It occurred to him that she could be newly-promoted, but still...

"Innocence, activate!" shouted the girl, the shock fading from her eyes to be replaced by righteous fury. A green glow formed on her boots, and she sprang upwards and... ran on midair. She was fast, too; almost swifter than even his attentive gaze could follow. One after another, the small army of akuma fell, and Harry found himself selfishly relieved that Lily, far more valuable in her unique employment, was not among them.

Her task complete, she alighted before them. "Are you alright?" she asked gently, looking over the group of Finders. Having received affirmative replies from her relieved companions, she turned her attention to Harry. "Who are you?"

He glanced at Lulubell, who nodded, and then turned back to the General; Miss Lenalee Lee the Finders had called her. A memory vied for his attention, whispering _Allen's friend_ into his mind, but she was his enemy. Allen might have spared her, but he would not. "Harry Potter of the Noah clan," he introduced himself with a mocking bow. A satisfied smirk made its way onto his face as each of the Finders drew back, suddenly afraid, and even the General took a half step backwards before catching herself.

"Get away from her, Victoria!" cried one of the braver Finders, but Lulubell did not budge from her silent vigil at his side. Lenalee's eyes narrowed.

"Surely not... an akuma?" whispered the horrified Finder.

"No, I don't think so," replied Lenalee, a quiet anger in her voice. "Lulubell of the Noah clan, right?"

Lulubell moved quickly, her fingernails extending into dagger-like claws that she aimed for Lenalee's throat, but the General was quicker. Lulubell was now on the ground with Lenalee's boot about to descend on her neck. "You've gotten stronger," said the Noah, speaking for the first time, but Lenalee did not pause. Harry started forward, but Lulubell was already water particles, escaping into the ground itself. Lenalee almost stumbled, but the braver Finder's hand on her arm steadied her.

Lulubell's true form reformed by Harry's side, a spooky grin stretched across her face. Lenalee faltered; illogically, she had not expected to see such expression on the face of the normally stoic Lulubell. Harry took advantage of the exorcist's lowered guard to dart forward and seize her slender neck. She hissed and attempted to recoil as his fingers burned her, but his grip was firm. He squeezed, choking her. Not much longer and her windpipe would be crushed... Lulubell guarded his back, casually slaughtering the Finders foolish enough to attempt to interfere.

An Innocence-reinforced boot made contact with his crotch, and he stumbled backwards, barely keeping from sprawling onto his back. The General streaked towards her unbalanced enemy with a deadly gleam in her eyes. He managed to dodge, but it unbalanced him still further, left him yet more vulnerable.

It was Lulubell who came to his rescue, dagger-nails thrusting into Lenalee's stomach. The Chinese beauty drew back, coughing up blood even as she glared at them with hatred. By this time the remaining Finders had wisely sought cover from the supernaturally-enhanced battle. Well, all but one. "We've contacted the Order, General," said the one Harry had identified as 'the braver one'. He stood boldly beside the carriage they had been travelling in, a black communication golem hovering about his head. Harry stuck his tongue out at the exorcist and flicked his hand in the direction of the bold Finder.

The unfortunate soul wailed in agony as flames consumed him. "Dante!" the exorcist screamed, and her eyes filled with tears.

Harry giggled. Lenalee's hate-filled eyes bored into his to no effect other than to prompt him to begin laughing in earnest. His laughter was elated and more than a little deranged. He began to stalk deliberately towards her with all a predator's grace and eagerness. He wanted to hear her scream.

She took to the skies, leaving him pouting. "No fair!" he called after her. Lulubell launched herself into the air, transforming into a griffin mid-leap. Harry smirked and arched his neck so that he was able to keep the airborne battle in his sights.

Lenalee was able to dodge her all of her opponent's strikes with ease, but managed to land no more than a few blows on the griffin. The General began to falter after twenty minutes as her wounds took their tole. Harry grinned and sent a funnel of fire in her direction. She dodged – mostly. A tongue of flame licked the end of her skirt and then leapt ravenously upon it, growing rapidly as it devoured. The burning girl flung herself into Lulubell who let out a squawk of protest before transforming into water to escape the potential inferno.

Harry turned his bloodthirsty sights on the fleeing Finders. He picked them off with ease then returned to Lulubell. She stood in her Noah form with Lenalee sprawled at her feet. The exorcist's skin was charred, black and leathery in places, and weeping red in others. Her eyes were stuck closed and no hair remained. In short, she was unrecognisable. Harry looked on with interest whilst idly licking the Finders' blood from his fingers. "Is she alive, Lulu-nee?"

The Lust of Noah replied in the affirmative. Harry grinned. "Good," he all but purred. "There's something I wanna find out." He pulled the knife he had been using on his Potions ingredients from his pocket and twirled it between his fingers whilst falling to his knees beside the incapacitated exorcist General's shallowly-breathing form. "I have plans for a certain teacher of mine, Little Miss Exorcist. She _wounded_ me, you know, so she's gonna suffer. Only thing is, it just won't do if I accidentally kill Professor Umbitch before we've had a chance to properly play. So I need an idea of how much a human being can suffer before they snuff it. You'll help me won't you, General-chan?"

Lenalee whimpered, and then her chest stopped moving. Harry frowned petulantly and picked up her wrist to feel the pulse. Nothing.

"Awwww. Why'd she have to just go and _die_ like that? I wanted to..." And Harry proceeded to throw a small tantrum – nothing on the scale of the ones Dudley used to throw, but still whiny enough to make him sound like a spoiled brat. Lulubell interrupted.

"Calm down, I'm sure you'll get another chance for your experiment." Her tone was one of long-suffering exasperation – she was used to dealing with this sort of behaviour from Rhode. "Come on, now. We're leaving before the Order gets here." Harry pouted but obediently followed when she strode nonchalantly away from the scene of slaughter.

He froze. "Lulubell," he called, and the sudden seriousness of his tone prompted her to take notice. "The airborne fight didn't go unnoticed. Lily – she's an akuma – says Dumbledore and some of the teachers are headed this way to investigate."

"How troublesome," said Lulubell tonelessly, and gave a pointed look to his bloodstained robes.

Harry laughed sheepishly. "Damn, I'd forgotten about that. What the hell can I tell them?"

"Nothing," said Lulubell flatly. "Is this 'Lily' a teacher?"

"Yeah, but what does... OH! She can cover for me." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I can't believe I didn't think of that."

His lips moved silently as he sent telepathic instructions to his Mother. Right away he received acknowledgment, and then he leaned back against a tree and waited as the Professor skillfuly lead his/her companions astray.

"Hn, Lulu-nee," he said, his head tilted so that it was resting on his left shoulder. "I can't go back to school looking like this, so what say I come home to clean up?"

"Fine," she replied, and gave a small smile in spite of herself. "Rhode will be pleased."

Harry cheered and started to waltz with himself until Lulubell slapped a hand over his mouth and dragged him down into some bushes. Moments later, Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Sprout and Snape came into view. Professor Snape appeared slightly nervous. "This is a waste of time," he snapped, turning away to hide the tell-tale pentagram that, in his aggitation, had formed on his forehead. "I'm telling you that it was only a forest animal."

Dumbledore frowned and gave the teacher's back a stern look over his half-moon spectacles. He had just opened his mouth to speak when he was interrupted by a lithe black cat darting out of some bushes with a high-pitched yowl.

"See," said the on-edge Potions Master. "It's only a cat."

Soon the Headmaster and teachers were continuing on to the scene of the battle, leaving cat-formed Lulubell to leap into a greatly relieved Harry's arms.

* * *

AN: If Harry seemed a bit too evil in this chapter, take a moment to consider the possible affects of what he's discovered of his Mother's fate, as well as the pressure of all the poor opinions he's been getting battered with. Plus, he's a Noah, they all feel the urge to go all crazy-genocidal-sadistic at least sometimes. Yes, that includes the 14th.

Also, I know that in canon Lenalee's not a General yet. Emphisis on **yet**. Any exorcist can become a General if they stay alive and fight long enough.


	14. Fallout

AN: I utterly fail at even somewhat timely updates, I'm not even going to bother apologising or making excuses. I was going over what I've written and I'm far from satisfied with several things... One day I might even stop utilising the sin of sloth and fix that. Well, anyway, here's the next chapter, I hope you enjoy. The next update will come either soon or later depending on how much I'm distracted by shiny things that aren't this fic.

Thank you, of course, to all my lovely reviewers! I present you with virtual blood pops as tokens of my gratitude.

* * *

"Harry!" shrieked Rhode, and launched herself into his arms, uncaring of the slick blood that transferred itself from Harry's robes to her previously-pristine white blouse.

"Hello Rhode," Harry smiled warmly. "How's the homework going?"

"Splendidly. Papa stayed up all night to finish it."

Harry rolled his eyes and gave a good-natured laugh. "He really does spoil you."

"Well of course he does. I'm his wonderful, cute daughter after all."

Harry grinned and shook his head, not least because he knew that Sheryl Kamelot would back up that claim with incredible, even overwhelming, enthusiasm.

"Ha-rry," said Rhode with a pout, and looked up at him with the biggest, most adorable eyes he had ever seen. "Don't you agree? Aren't I the cutest?"

"Of course you are!" Harry rushed to reassure her. "You're the cutest, most adorable girl I've ever seen!"

Rhode smiled smugly and nudged his nose with hers. "Of _course_ I am."

An amused Lulubell patted them both on the head. "You should clean up, Harry. I shall inform Master of the completion of our mission." That said, she vanished through a wooden door painted white, setting off to navigate Noah's Ark with all the ease of a long-time Noah.

Noah's Ark was not an actual ark. Rather, it appeared from the outside to be a giant shining cube in the sky, while inside it was a vast white city. It was filled with doors that opened to various scattered parts of the world. By all accounts it was a very useful artifact, especially now that they had the Musician on their side. The Musician who played the piano that controlled the Ark. Allen Walker.

"You look like you've been having fun," said Rhode, her gaze roving over the bloodstains. "You got rid of a new General, didn't you? Lenalee Lee."

"That's right. Do you know her?"

"Mm-hm. I made her my doll once, and dressed her up very prettily. Allen was so angry." She smiled brightly, but then her expression fell to a frown. "He's not going to like it when he hears."

Harry looked down and scuffed his feet awkwardly. There was a forboding feeling in his stomache, almost like guilt. He _liked_ Allen. He never wanted to upset him.

The grip of Rhode's arms around Harry tightened. "Don't worry too much," she whispered into his left ear. "She was an enemy, a dispicable obstacle. You did good, Harry-kun."

Harry smiled weakly, the look in his eyes turbulent even as he deliberatly smoothed out the rest of his expression. "I guess I'd better clean up. If I stay away from Hogwarts for too long, it'll be noticed."

"So what if it is?" said Rhode, her embrace tightening. "What's the worst they'll do, Harry-kun?"

"Well who knows? Either way, I'm going to clean up now." His voice was firm, and Rhode reluctantly let him go.

It was as he stood in the shower with the soft thunder of rapidly-falling water all around him that he heard it. It was something between a yell and a scream, and it conained grief, despair and anger. Harry shivered in spite of himself and in spite of the heat of the water that struck him and gave rise to copious amounts of steam. "Allen," he whispered, the unease in his voice almost tangible.

Some time later he stepped out of the bathroom clad in new, clean school-robes, and immediately received an armful of adorable lolita girl. "Rhode?" he asked, ruffling her hair. "Did Allen...?"

"He's gone," she said, and Harry tightened his embrace around her as he heard the distress in her voice. "He left through a door he made and closed behind him, so I don't know where he went. I... I don't think he'll be coming back, Harry."

Harry looked away, his shoulders slumped and his head low. "I-I'm sorry Rhode. If I hadn't..."

Rhode drew back, her expression suddenly angry. "Don't apologise," she snarled. "You did what you were meant to do, that's no reason to be sorry! It's Allen who's being an idiot... Allen..." She gave a quiet and unhappy laugh, and the look in her eyes softened. Harry's stomach twisted uncomfortably.

"Just like always," she whispered, smiling sadly. "That's why I _like_ you, Allen-kun."

Harry took a step back, his eyes closed and his arms wrapped tight around himself. He only opened his eyes when he felt a small, warm hand caress his face. The hand belonged to Rhode, who was staring up at him with a sly smile. "But not as much as I like you, Harry-kun," she told him. "Not anymore." And she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips. He returned the kiss, and backed off only when he found himself in need of air. His face was flushed and his eyes were bright.

"Go back to Hogwarts," said Rhode. "Continue learning magic, wrap up your unfinished business, and when it's all over return to us. That's the most important, return to us!"

"O-Of course, Rhode," he told her. "How could I do otherwise? The Noah are my family, and you..." He trailed off with a blush. Rhode grinned, and then her expression sobered once again.

"Never apologise for doing the right thing, Harry," she said fiercly. "It's stupid and weak and pointless and wimpy. It's entirely like a normal, weak human, and you're not that anymore, Harry. You're a _Noah_."

Slowly, thoughtfully, Harry nodded. "Yes. I understand."

Rhode beamed and hugged his arm. "C'mon Harry-kun," she chirped. "Say goodbye to the others before you leave."

They found Tyki in the library, reading a book on philosophy. When Rhode saw who it was written by – Marquis de Sade – she fell to the floor in a dehabilitating fit of giggles. Tyki pretended to be affronted, but his grin gave him away. Harry tried to peek over his shoulder at the book, to see what could have possibly invoked such a reaction from Rhode, but Tyki held it up out of his sight, and no amount of pouting would convince him otherwise. In fact, it only served to amuse the older man, and when Rhode came out of her amused fit enough to see Harry's expression, she was once again reduced to spasming with laughter upon the carpet.

Jasdevi were out on a mission, so Harry wasn't able to see them before he left. He was three parts disappointed and two parts relieved – they were family, but were also, at all times, incredibly overwhelming. So he exchanged nods of farewell with Lulubell and was put through a somewhat embarrassing goodbye from Sheryl.

Sometime while he was away, Rhode's doting father seemed to have decided that he, Harry, would make an utterly wonderful and adorable son, and spent fifteen whole minutes trying to shove adoption papers at Harry to sign before Tyki intervened. The look Noah's Pleasure sent him immediately afterwards clearly stated 'you owe me'. Harry gave a grateful nod to disgruntled Tyki, who was currently suffering the exuberent attentions of his doting and possibly flirtatious brother.

Harry left quickly. He rather did not want to notice any more evidence that Sheryl was trying to flirt with Tyki. At least this way he could pretend he didn't suspect Sheryl of incestuous tendencies.

"Sorry I'm late, Professor," Harry said politely as he entered the Defense classroom. "I was recovering from a Potions accident."

"Excuses will get you nowhere, Mr. Potter," Umbridge simpered. "I think... an additional three detentions should allow the lesson to _sink in_." She smiled unpleasantly at the staring class. "Continue reading, class."

Harry laughed. Umbridge was unable to hide her subsequent surprise, and that only caused Harry to laugh harder. "As milady wishes," he said, and gave a low, mocking bow that served to hide the gleam in his eyes.

Umbridge's eyes narrowed and her lips curled into a sneer. "Two more detentions, Mr. Potter. If you keep this up, I am afraid that I shall have no choice but to have you serve detention for the rest of the year."

Harry tilted his head and smiled mock-sweetly. "I would expect nothing less from you." Before she was able to reply he sat down next to Hermione, who was looking at him with clear disapproval.

"She's just looking for excuses to punish you, and you're giving them to her," she hissed. "You need to..."

"I know," he interrupted. "Calm down, Hermione. I'm just playing." Not to mention, venting some of his frustration over Allen's disappearance, but Hermione didn't need to know that.

Far from appeasing her, Harry's explanaion prompted Hermione to puff up with fury. "_Playing?_" she spluttered, only just remembering to keep her voice down. "That's... You..."

"Yeah, for fun. It's all just so boring and, well, not fun, to just keep my head down like you'd prefer. I would apologise for that, only I'm really not sorry at all."

Hermione couldn't help herself. She was all for being level-headed and logical, but this was just...

She screamed in frustration. Her friend was completely missing the point, on purpose if the mischief flooding his eyes was anything to go by. Not only that, but he had changed; not only over the holidays, but while he was at school as well. Even since this morning he had changed, and for all her booksmarts she could think of nothing to do about it.

"Detention, Miss Granger, for disrupting the class," Professor Umbridge announced with poorly disguised glee. Hermione bit back tears and resisted the urge to bang her head against the desk.


	15. Explosive

Harry never did make it to detention that evening – he found something much more interesting and troublesome with which to occupy himself.

There were Exorcists lurking around Hogwarts. They hadn't actually entered the grounds yet, but he didn't count on that lasting for long. Among them was Kanda Yuu, and Harry was not exactly eagre to be recognised. But what could he do? There were hardly any akuma left in the area after the battle with the General, and attempting an assassination himself would defeat the purpose of remaining unidentified... Who knew how much killing it would take to make the samurai stay dead?

What to do, what to do? He was perched on a window sill in a seldom-used corridor, peering out through the glass at the magnificently looming full moon. A wolf howled somewhere in the distance, and Harry shivered in spite of himself. He gnawed on his lower lip as he thought.

A door into the corridor opened and Lily stepped through, black robe billowing behind her. She stopped dead when she saw Harry and bowed stiffly. "It's past curfew, Noah-sama. I have to take off points."

Harry chuckled and jumped down from the window sill. "I was almost a Slytherin, so you can just take the points from them, ne?"

A slight widening of Snape's eyes was the only indication of the akuma's surprise at this little tidbit of information. "As you say, Noah-sama, ten points from Slytherin," was all she said.

Harry skipped up to the akuma with a grin that faded away to be replaced by a more solemn expression as he stared into his/her eyes. "You've seen the Exorcists around, right?"

Judging by her expression, she had not. "Ex-or-cists," she hissed. A pentacle appeared on her forehead and she licked her lips, allowing a glimpse of teeth that were a bit more fang-like than they should have been.

Harry glared sternly, then ruined the affect by poking the akuma's chest. "No going after them, OK Mum? You're too valuable for a suicide mission, so lay low."

The akuma's expression became perfectly blank, like some kind of wax doll, as the pentacle faded back out of view. "I shall, of course, follow your orders, Noah-sama."

Harry wrapped his arms around himself as though he thought that would hold in the chills travelling through his body. Even to him, a Noah, akuma could be damn creepy. Especially when they were really his Mum disguised as his most hated teacher and raring to kill, only to reveal herself as the doll she was, the puppet whose strings were pulled by the Earl... and by him.

He turned on his heel and walked away. Lily did not follow.

What to do, what to do? He roamed the corridors aimlessly, dangerously unaware of his surroundings. Naturally, that was a mistake. The katana blade came swiftly for his chest, and he only just managed to dodge in time. He barely had time to take in the long black hair, the thunderous expression on admittedly handsome face and the dark smouldering eyes before he was forced to dodge again. He laughed in spite of himself. "Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Exorcist Kanda Yuu."

"Che. Just die already, damn Noah."

Harry gave a mock gasp that was belied by the wicked grin spreading across his face. "S-So mean, Yuu. You should apologise." The intensity of Kanda's glare increased as he continued his attempts to run the Noah boy through. Harry retaliated by sticking out his tongue. "You can't catch me, you can't catch me, I'm... I'm not the gingerbread man. But you still can't catch me."

"Che. Are all of you Noah immature morons?"

"I'm not a moron, stupid Exorcist. _You're_ a moron."

A loud noise. Harry faltered and then Kanda's sword was at his throat. His breath caught and he froze, not daring to move a millimetre. The gazes of both him and the Exorcist shifted to the girl who stood at the other end of the corridor with a metal cymbal in each hand – a fourth-year Ravenclaw with long and scraggly dirty-blonde hair and prodruding blue eyes, and dressed in a rainbow-coloured night dress with vomit-coloured polka dots.

"Who are you?" asked Kanda.

"Luna Lovegood," she replied. "Mummy was with the Black Order, in the Science Division. She died during an experiment, but she told me about the Millennium Earl and his akuma and the Noah Family before that, and how they want to destroy the world. I don't think they should be allowed to do that, do you?" She gave her usual dreamy smile, but Harry detected something sharp, perhaps even dangerous, behind it that he had never noticed before. She lifted a hand and pointed at Harry. "_He's_ a Noah, Mr. Exorcist."

"I know that," said Kanda. "But I don't know that you're not an akuma."

"I promise I'm not. The Earl came to me back then, but I'd already promised Mummy that I'd never contract with him. I never break my promises, Mr. Exorcist."

"Hn." The Exorcist looked back at Harry, although it was clear that he was still keeping an eye on Luna as well. "Did you kill General Lenalee Lee, Noah?"

Harry bore his teeth in a feral grin. "What if I did?"

The katana nicked his throat and it _burned_. A small twitch was the only outward sign he gave that it affected him at all. Inside, however, he was panicking. A sword of Innocence right through the throat... Smaller wounds were OK, but he did not think he would survive that. He didn't want to die...

A shower of akuma blood bullets slammed into Kanda's back, and his grip on his sword loosened just enough that Harry was able to slip away with only a horribly throbbing but shallow cut across his throat. He smirked at the dying Exorcist...

Who wasn't really dying. Already the pentacles that had formed all over his skin as the blood virus set in were changing back into flawless skin. Damn. "What does it take to kill you, bastard?" the teen Noah snarled.

"I won't die until I..." A shrill scream interrupted the Exorcist's speech. It was Luna, the pentacles of the blood virus springing up all over her flesh. Kanda leapt forward and slashed the akuma, but it was already too late for Luna. She crumbled away to dust in the same moment that the akuma exploded. Harry's eyes widened in horror.

Not because of Luna. She was a liability with hidden depths that almost cost him his life. No, he was horrified because the akuma that had just ceased to exist was Lily. "Why didn't you stay away like I said, idiot?" he whispered, and then he turned his sights on Kanda. He snarled and raised his arms, summoning fire to his fingertips.

He was done playing around.

Flames jumped through the air towards Kanda with unnatural speed. The samurai was able to dodge for only a very short while before they caught up and roared into an inferno around him. Now fully in black form, Harry looked on with a truly savage grin, never once allowing the flames to let up even the smallest amount. He would keep them burning forever if that was what it took to kill the apparent immortal.

"Stop, Harry," a voice called loud and clear – a voice that expected to be obeyed. Harry looked over in the direction it had come from and was surprised to see Allen, whom he had never heard use that tone before, with the purple glow of Dark Matter forming a threatening aura around him. Harry didn't stop.

"Why should I?" he asked, the look on his face challenging.

Allen glared. "Because I won't lose any more friends to you, or to any of the Noah." And then he attacked. Harry was taken by surprise and only managed to partially dodge. He held a hand to his bleeding arm and knew that he had to make a decision. Fighting Allen would take all of his concentration; he would no longer be able to maintain his attack on Kanda.

He allowed the flames to die and readied himself to defend or dodge as necessary. He still considered Allen part of his family, and was therefore not willing to go on the offensive just yet. Allen didn't attack again, however, and instead went to the side of the burnt and twitching mess that was Kanda. Much to Harry's dismay, he could already see signs of some of the burns beginning to heal over.

"What do you plan to do?" he asked Allen. The white-haired boy looked at him with a Noah's smile, the freakishly wide kind that promised destruction.

"I'm going to kill the Millennium Earl, and if anyone stands in my way I'll kill them too." He gently picked up Kanda, and then straightened up and gave Harry a hard look. "I've seen Lenalee's body, you know. I can't forgive you for making her suffer like that." And on that ominous note, he summoned one of the Ark's gates and stepped through.

Harry thoughtfully licked some of the blood from the hand he had previously held over his now-healing arm. "'Going to kill the Millennium Earl', huh, Allen? I suppose that makes us enemies." He frowned and kicked the wall. "_Damn_ it! First Mum, and now..."

"Mr. Potter?"

Harry spun around to face the speaker, silently cursing himself for losing focus on his surroundings again. He raised his arms in preperation to call upon his powers should it prove necessary, but then relaxed a little when he saw who it was. "Madam Pomfrey," he acknowledged, nodding with stiff politeness. "If you'll excuse me, I'll be going back to the common room." He turned to leave, but paused when the broker spoke up again.

"It may not be my place to say, but you should probably clean up that blood first. Not to mention switching forms."

"Oh, yeah," Harry laughed sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. His grey skin changed to British standard, his gold eyes to green, and the stigmata across his forehead dissolved to be replaced by single lightning-bolt scar. "Thanks, I guess."

"It's no problem." She hesitated, and then added, "You don't like me very much, do you?"

And then it was Harry's turn to hesitate. "It's nothing personal," he eventually said. "It's just..." He ran his bloodied hand through his hair, and then grimaced when he realised what he had done. "Er, I'd better clean up before someone else happens across me. Bye." And he all but fled down the hallway, headed in the direction of the nearest bathroom. Luckily he managed to make it there without encountering anyone, and one of the showers there took care of the blood, the wounds on his arm and throat having already healed.

When he arrived in the common room, it was to find Hermione curled up on an armchair by the fire with a periwinkle blanket thrown over her, tired gaze fixed on the portrait hole. He was suddenly very glad that he had cleaned up all that blood before coming here.

"Parvati saw you leaving," she informed him. "Where have you been?"

He shrugged. "Just for a walk. I couldn't sleep."

"You shouldn't go out after curfew without a good reason," she said with a stern glare.

He shrugged again, unable to bring himself to care. "Whatever. I'll see you in the morning." And he stalked moodily up to his dorm, ignoring Hermione's call for him to wait.


	16. Defect

AN: This chapter was originally going to be an Allen, Kanda and Lavi special, but I ended up getting back to Harry's POV at the end to make it a bit longer. Soooo, I hope you enjoy the Exorcists-current-and-former special with bonus Harry at the end XD

Also, from now on 'Rhode' shall be spelt with the official spelling of 'Road'.

* * *

Allen hummed as he tapped his fingers against his knee. The tune was that of the Musician's song, the melody that he, the 14th Noah, used to control Noah's Ark. That was where he was now – the 14th's secret piano room in Noah's Ark. He was on the floor, leaning against the side of the piano that was actually the Ark's control centre and heart. It was a grand instrument with keys that were black where one expected to see white and white where one expected to see black. The room itself had two extra additions that it normally did not – a futon and, on top of that, a certain Japanese Exorcist.

Kanda Yuu was mostly healed by now; only a few burns remained and they were relatively minor. He was, however, still unconcious. It was slightly worrying to Allen, but then again the burns had been quite extensive. Anyone else would have been long dead. The traitor Noah raised his hand and caressed the piano, giving it an almost fond look.

The Ark was completely his now. Once upon a time it had fallen into the hands of the Black Order, who had used it to their own advantage. Shortly after Allen had allied himself with the Earl, he had utilised his power as the Ark's true Master to steal it back right out from under the Order's nose, and had presented it as a gesture of good will to his Clan. And now he had played the same trick, or at least a very similar one, on the Earl as he had once played on the Order.

Noah's Ark was now locked to the Millennium Earl and the faithful Noah. Even Road's doors no longer provided them with access. As the Musician willed it so it was. Of course, the Earl still had his Black Ark that Road had downloaded from this one with the power of her Dreams, but the Earl was still minus one powerful artefact.

Kanda stirred and Allen leaned forward eagerly, but the samurai only rolled over and did not wake. Allen gave a disappointed sigh and went back to leaning against the piano. For the first time since he had entered this room with the maimed Kanda cradled in his arms, he allowed his gaze to travel to the large mirror that stood off to the side.

The widely grinning shadow he saw there seemed almost to mock him, not least because of how close to him it was, so close in fact that part of it looked to have been absorbed into himself. It was visible only to him and only in the mirror, or in any reflective surface. The first time he had seen this shadow had also been the first time he entered this room, back when he was still an Exorcist. It had hovered eerily behind him and he had not known what it was. Later he had discovered that it was in fact the 14th Noah, and it had started to appear every time he saw his reflection.

And since then it had been drawing ever-closer, so slowly that he did not notice at first. Not until the incident with Levrier, however, had it drawn so close as to start merging with him like this.

Even as he watched here and now in the piano room, his own form absorbed a little more of the shadow. The process seemed to have sped up since he left the Earl. It was as though he and the previous Musician were truly becoming one entity.

Kanda's eyes opened and he all but flew to his feet, reaching for the sword that was no longer in its previous place at his hip. Nor was it anywhere in sight. His eyes widened with the closest thing to panic Allen had ever seen him show, and then they narrowed as his gaze fell upon the Musician himself. "What the hell, beansprout?" he snapped.

"I'm not a beansprout, Bakanda! You could try showing some gratitude, since I just saved you from being eternally trapped in an inferno."

"Che. I could have handled it."

"I'll let you do that next time then."

"You do that."

"I will."

"Che. What did you do with Mugen?"

Allen tilted his head to the side and his smile was suddenly eerie. "Don't worry, it's safe. I just want a chance to talk to you before you start trying to cut off my head."

Kanda's eyes narrowed at the change in Allen's smile. "Start talking," he snarled, determined to get straight to the point. Allen's smile grew wider.

"I'm forming a third side to the war, one that is for neither the Order nor the Earl. Or, should I say, I'm ressurecting the third side of the war that was started by the 14th Noah – my former self, I suppose – all those years ago. I've now experienced being part of both sides and am satisfied with neither, quite the opposite in fact. So what do you say, Kanda? Will you leave the corrupt Order's side for mine?"

"I say you talk too much, beansprout. Just give Mugen back already."

Allen glared, his temper short as it ever was in Kanda's company. "This _not_-beansprout will give it back just as soon as you answer the question, Bakanda."

The samurai Exorcist twitched. "I might refuse just because of how annoying you are." A small smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. "Not to mention incompetent."

Allen snorted. "I'm not that incompetent..."

"Then prove it."

The white-haired boy blinked in surprise, and then gave a small smirk to match the Exorcist's. "Alright. Your toy's inside the piano."

Kanda twitched again, more violently than last time. "What did you just say?"

"I said 'Your toy's inside the piano.'" And then he tapped one of the black keys. A low note ensued, and then Mugen tumbled out of the piano's side, phasing through as though the instrument was made of nothing more than air. Kanda stepped over and picked it up, and then immediately went on the offensive.

* * *

Kanda Yuu strode through the hallways of the Black Order, radiating an aura of malice that successfully dissuaded those he passed from bothering him. It would not have worked on someone like, say, Levrier, but luckily those kinds of people were not all that common and Kanda did not encounter any. It did not take him long to reach his room, which he eyed dispassionately once he had entered.

It was, for the most part, a Sparten room that contained only the most practical of items such as a bed, a sword stand and rolled-up mats for meditation. The one seeming exception to this rule was a lotus flower in an hourglass that had pride of place on a small table in the middle of the room. That was, unless you counted the shattered glass under a broken window that was testament to Kanda's often-short temper.

"You're back, Yuu!" called Lavi, shouldering the partially-closed door fully open. The only thing that kept Kanda from shoving him out of the room and slamming the door behind him was his uncharacteristically serious expression. "It's been crazy here since Komui found out what happened to Lenalee. Did ya find out anything else? It had to have been a Noah, right?"

"There were two working together. That brat who was with Road back in the Black Forest and Lulubell. The brat was the one who burned her."

"I see." Lavi's face was perfectly blank. It would have seemed that he felt nothing at all were it not for his eyes, but even then it was many times easier to see that there were emotions than it was to identify what exactly they were.

Kanda didn't say anything more, just stalked over to the hourglass and wrapped it carefully in his coat. Lavi tilted his head to the side curiously, but didn't speak until the other boy had lifted the bundle into his arms and taken a step towards the door.

"Going somewhere, Yuu?"

"Che." He gave the redhead an annoyed look. "I almost forgot. I have a message from your little boyfriend."

Lavi almost fell flat on his face. "W-What?" Kanda smirked.

"Am I wrong?"

Lavi spluttered. Just as it seemed he was about to recover, perhaps with a bout of his customary exuberance, Kanda spoke up again.

"He says, 'How would the Bookmen like to record from a third side of the war?'"

The following morning the Black Order discovered that Kanda, Lavi and Bookman were all missing and nowhere to be found. Levrier was furious.

* * *

Harry stabbed moodily at his egg with a fork, never once raising a single piece to his mouth. His appetite just wasn't here this morning. Perhaps it had decided to take a vacation in order to escort Lily to the afterlife or something. That thought caused him to stab his mutilated food so savagely that the fork jammed right through with enough force to make a loud _clang_ that could be heard throughout the hall. Almost everyone turned to look just as the force of that impact sent the fork sailing through the air.

Draco Malfoy, whom it seemed had been heading in the direction of the Gryffindor table, no doubt in order to make some pathetic and juvenille taunt, stopped dead as the wayward eating utensil missed him by mere millimetres. Unfortunately, he recovered quickly. "You should be more careful, Potty," he sneered. "You'll run into trouble if you go on throwing things at your betters like that..."

Harry yawned and tuned him out. He simply wasn't in the mood to deal with this. He noted with vague interest that Malfoy started to puff up and go red when if became clear that Harry was not listening to a word he was saying.

"Shut up already Malfoy, nobody cares." That was Hermione, much to the surprise of everyone in hearing range. There were dark circles under her eyes and her hair was even frizzier than usual. It was clear that she was short on sleep, and Harry almost felt a stab of guilt as he wondered if that was his fault. _Almost_ because he was too busy, well, brooding, to summon the energy to do it properly.

Malfoy recovered from his shock relatively quickly, however, and snapped back, "No one asked _you_, filthy mudblood." Murmurs started all around them, much more angry than surprised. No one was surprised to hear things like that from Malfoy these days.

Harry's eyebrow twitched. Well, _really_ now. He sighed and then looked up at the platinum-blond with a sickly sweet smile that caused the other to falter and pale as he was reminded eerily of Road Kamelot. "But is your blood really that different, Mr. Malfoy?" the secret Noah asked quietly. And then he reached across the table and picked up one of the sharper knives, and stroked the flat of the blade with something like deceptive tenderness. All the while his smile never faded. If anything, it only grew even more sickly sweet.

Malfoy's eyes widened. He stood still for almost a minute, frozen like a hare in headlights. "You're psycho, Potter," he eventually blurted, and then he ran – actually _ran_, at full speed – from the Great Hall. Even almost tripping over the hem of his robes did not slow him down for long. There was a long silence in which one could have heard a pin drop.

It was eventually broken when Seamus Finnigan laughed awkwardly. "Did you see his face? It was like he expected him to actually stab him."

"Maybe I should have," muttered Harry. "That, or at least cut out his vocal chords. It'd be a favour to the school, really."

Several more people laughed. Harry gave a caustic smile; they obviously thought he was joking.

His smile faded a little, however, when he noticed that not everyone seemed amused. Hermione Granger (well OK, that one wasn't surprising in the slightest), Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Ginevra 'Ginny' Weasley, and (and this one really did surprise him) George Weasley.

"Wow, Harry," muttered Ginny. "He may deserve it, but really... Way to channel your psycho girlfriend."

"Thank you," Harry chirped, and then skipped from the hall, leaving behind the sudden erruption of whispers – "Did she say girlfriend?" "Who do you think...?"

What was one less akuma anyway? Well, OK, he was still fairly upset, what with her being his Mum and all, but even more than that she had been a puppet, there was just no getting around that. But at least he still had the Noah, the ones like him who were truly his kin. At least he still had Road...

Well then, it seemed that it was time for Potions. Damn.


	17. Lines

"Maybe he's just late."

"Snape, late? Hah, as if he'd miss an oppurtunity to torment us Gryffindors."

"Maybe he left since no one likes him anyway."

"Speak for yourself, low-class idiot."

"Get lost. Slytherins aren't invited to this conversation."

"That's right. He could have been sacked."

"Or maybe he _died_."

Harry looked away to hide his expression as Ron and Seamus laughed at that last comment. His hands balled into fists and he bit down on his lip so hard that it bled.

"That isn't funny," he heard Hermione scold.

Ron snorted, and Harry could just imagine him rolling his eyes and perhaps exchanging exasperated looks with Seamus. "Yeah it is. Ow! Geez Hermione, lighten up."

"Idiot," Hermione huffed, and Harry found that he had to agree. Why wouldn't everyone just shut up already?

"I-It really isn't," said Neville, his voice just above a murmur. "I-If he's really d-dead."

Harry turned around to look at Neville with surprise. Didn't he hate Snape the most? Everyone was surprised, it seemed; some of them were even staring with open mouths. Even Neville looked as though he couldn't believe what he had just said. Only Hermione had no reaction other than an unladylike snort at the reactions of everyone else.

"What the hell, Neville?" snapped Ron, looking almost offended. Neville blushed and looked down at his feet. Hermione glared at the redhead, but before she could say anything, Harry beat her to it.

"They're right, you know. Will you still laugh if you really stumble across his mutilated half-eaten body near the Forbidden Forest or something? If there's something you don't enjoy, it's stupid to laugh at the idea that it might happen."

Silence at last. It seemed that no one had anything to say to that... for now. Harry was pretty sure he shouldn't count on it lasting for long, so he took the oppurtunity to turn and stride away before some idiot decided to shatter the beautiful silence.

"Harry, wait!" called Hermione, and he overheard hurried footsteps behind him. "You can't just leave, Professor Snape might still show up!"

"I don't care," said Harry, somewhat snappishly. "Besides, you can't tell me that you want to stay there and listen to _that._"

Hermione pursed her lips. "Well, no, but..."

"But nothing," he interrupted, turning to look at her with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "C'mon Hermione, you're already top of the class." His voice took on a persuasive, beguiling edge. "Besides, you'll learn more from going to the library than lingering around the dungeons with a bunch of 'dunderheads', right?"

Hermione was unable to keep herself from giggling at that. "Well, I suppose, but..."

Harry beamed. "Excellent!" And then he grabbed her arm and dragged her along after him out of the dungeons and in the direction of the library, seemingly deaf to her half-hearted protests.

"Hem, hem. What is this?" A highly unwelcome, unnaturally pitched voice. Its source a pink-cardigan-clad woman with toad-like features, the much-despised Professor Dolores Umbridge. Hermione paled.

"Professor, we were just..."

"Skipping class, is it?" the Professor simpered, an unpleasant smile growing on her face. "An additional three detentions for each of you should suffice, I think. And another three for skipping your detention yesterday, Mr Potter. Now, off to class with you."

A suspicion started to form in Harry's mind, and it only deepened when he glanced at Hermione and saw that she was frowning mutinously and clutching at her hand. "What exactly will out detentions be, Professor Umbridge?" he asked slowly.

Umbridge's smile grew wider. "Lines should make the lesson sink in, I think."

"You can't," blurted Hermione, bristling like an angry cat. "I'll tell Dumbledore and..."

Umbridge laughed breezily. "As I said yesterday, Miss Granger, it would be a simple matter for our gracious Minister to remove an incompetent Headmaster from his post. Do stop being such a silly little girl, won't you?" She turned to leave. "Good day Miss Granger, Mr Potter."

"She has to be bluffing, she just has to be," muttered Hermione as the pink toad walked away. "They can't do that, can they? But I couldn't find it in the library..."

Harry seized Hermione's writing hand, turned it over, and examined it closely. There... A faint outline he might not have noticed otherwise; 'I must not disrupt class'. He barely noticed that she had fallen silent and was now trying fruitlessly to tug her hand away of his. His lips were thin and his narrowed eyes were blazing with fury. "That _bitch_," he growled, gaze never leaving those lightly-carved words. It was quite bad enough that Umbridge had dared do this to him... But to do it to Hermione as well, the only friend who truly remained to him at Hogwarts, who had not by now turned against him for one reason or another...

Keeping his cover was no longer the most important aspect of the situation. Umbridge's punishment had just been moved up the schedule to very very soon. He finally let go of Hermione's hand and started to walk away, but was stopped by Hermione's hand on his arm. "Harry," she said earnestly. "Don't do anything rash."

Harry made a noncommital sound and made to continue on to the library, but was once again interrupted by Hermione. "You too... She made you write lines with that horrid quill as well?" She was indignant, her anger towards Umbridge returning.

"You only just realised?" Harry snorted derisively. "And here I was thinking you were smart." This time when he walked away, Hermione did not stop him. He glanced back once, surreptitiously, and saw that she was staring after him and appeared to be doing her best to hide a slightly wounded expression. He wondered if he might have been a little over-harsh, but shrugged it off and continued on to the library.

By lunch Snape's disappearance was common knowledge, and the rumor mill was working overtime. Theories on his current whereabouts ranged from in St. Mungo's because of a Potions accident to awaiting trial for some heinous crime. About halfway through lunch, Dumbledore entered the Hall and made an announcement that served to enflame the rumors all the more. He announced that both Professor Snape and fourth-year Ravenclaw Luna Lovegood were missing.

"Maybe he kidnapped her," a seventh-year stage-whispered. It did not take long for that to become the most popular theory. As for possible reasons for such a thing, they became steadily more unlikely. Halfway through Transfiguration, Harry found himself on the floor in a fit of laughter after overhearing the theory that Snape had abducted Luna to be his sex slave. This whole thing was perfectly ridiculous.

He quickly sobered, however. Dammit, why did Lily have to make such a stupid move and die? Damn that stupid Exorcist with his damnable healing ability.

"What exactly do you find so amusing, Mr Potter," said Professor McGonagall, looming behind him. Harry tilted his head and smirked at her.

"It's perfectly ridiculous," he said.

McGonagall's eyebrows rose. "What exactly is 'ridiculous', Mr Potter?"

_Everything, _he thought. _This whole charade, the way the akuma and Noah and brokers hide so easily in plain sight. The self-righteous Exorcists fighting in the name of a false god. The way so many people are perfectly happy to make up their own version of events with no regard for facts. These stupid humans... should all just die. _He frowned._ Did I really just think that? It's true that some of them do, but... Well, alright, most of them do..._

Out loud he simply said, "Do people seriously not only believe that Snape kidnapped Luna, but also that it was to make her his sex slave?"

The face McGonagall pulled at that was priceless. Just as soon as she recovered from her shock, she rounded on the class and demanded that they stop the rumor-mungoring already, in a great deal more words than that. That alone caused Transfiguration to be the most fun Harry had had all day.

And then he was finished with classes for the day. Soon it would be time for detention with Umbridge, but first he had something else, albeit a related something else, to attend to. It was a rather simple matter to sneak off the school grounds and down to Hogsmeade without anyone noticing. There he broke into a random house and used the Floo Network to travel to the same general locale as the Noahs' current dwelling place.

He was looking for Road, but he found Tyki first. "I didn't expect to see you back here so soon," said the older Noah as smoke drifted from the tip of the cigarette dangling idly from his mouth. Harry grinned and latched onto his elder brother's arm. Were he a little bit shorter he probably would have been dangling. As it was, he only succeeded in _almost_ dangling. Tyki raised his eyebrows. "I see Road's rubbing off on you."

"Ginny Weasley said something like that too," said Harry cheerfully. "Mm, how did she... Oh that's right. 'Way to channel your psycho girlfriend,' she said." Tyki snorted and Harry shrugged. "Well, I presume she meant Road, since she's the only girlfriend I have..."

"Are you here for a specific reason?" Tyki interrupted, leaning against the wall instead of attempting to walk with one smallish Noah brat attached to his arm. Harry looked up and tilted his head.

"_May_be," he sang. "Are you going to tell me who Marquis de Sade is already?"

Tyki's lips twitched. "Nah, I don't think I will."

"Now you're just trying to annoy me, aren't you?"

Tyki's lips twitched some more, not really succeeding in holding back an amused smile. Harry sighed and let go of his arm. "That's fine, I'll just ask someone else. Hermione maybe, she's bound to know. Is Road around?"

"No, she's out doing a job for the boss."

"Aww, I wanted to borrow her dream dimension." He shrugged. "Oh well, I guess I'll make do without."

"Do I even want to know?"

"I'm going to kill one of my teachers, slowly. She deserves it."

Tyki gave him a sceptical look. "I hear that lots of kids think that about their teachers."

"Heh, I suppose so. Dudley and his gang always thought so, anyway. But it's true about Umbridge, and not just because she's annoying. That woman's pure evil." He said the last part with such disgust that Tyki gave him a rather odd look.

"The same has been said about us, you know," the older pointed out. Harry tilted his head and pursed his lips thoughtfully.

"Well, whatever," he shrugged it off. "They can say what they want, since it's not true anyway. At least, not completely." He checked his watch. "Hm, I'd better grab what I need and hurry back to Hogwarts. It just wouldn't do to be late to mine and Professor Umbridge's appointment, after all."

* * *

Bonus Feature: _All the Petty Little Humans_

A Lullaby for an Awakening Noah, to be sung to the tune of _All the Pretty Little Horses_ (What am I thinking, I don't even know...)

Hush-a-bye, don't you cry  
Awaken now precious child  
When you wake, you shall see  
All the world as it truly is

Burn it down, flood it again  
And all the petty little humans

Hush-a-bye, don't you cry  
Awaken now precious child  
When you wake, you shall have  
A family to help you through

Burn it down, flood it again  
And all the petty little humans  
Burn it down, flood it again  
And all the petty little humans


End file.
